Supernatural Collar
by SoVeryEasilyAmused
Summary: Series of one-shot crossovers between White Collar and Supernatural, with WC/Neal being the main focus. Some one-shots will be related and will be marked. 5,000 plus words per one-shot. Summaries for each are at the beginning of each story/chapter. A bit of AU on both series but no slash. Rated for violence and language to be safe.
1. Jus in Bello

_Jus in Bello_

Series: Supernatural Collar

Rating: 16+

Parings: none

Warnings: some blood, language, and violence

Summary: Neal Caffrey is brought to a little jail in some barely-on-the-map town after being caught by Peter Burke, and they find themselves in the middle of something… downright scary. Pre-series White Collar, crossover with Supernatural (season three).

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own Supernatural, White Collar, or any of the characters or events associated with either show and no copyright infringement is intended. Amusement only, no profit made. Oh, I don't own some of the dialogue in this fic either –anyone who's seen Jus in Bello will know what dialogue I'm talking about.

Author's Note:

Pre-Series White Collar

Season Three Supernatural

This is going to be the first in a mini-series of one-shots all planned to be 5,000 words or more.

I doubt that events will be in order (IE as appeared/happened in the show) so any suggestions on episodes you would like to see (or see combined) are welcome. You might also see some AU stuff (in the sense that it's similar to the shows but not 100% the same.)

Should have another one shot to post next week before I leave for vacation, but PLEASE leave suggestions so I have more things to work on to add!

Just FYI I have Folsom Prison Blues, Free to Be (You and Me), and Exile on Main Street written up (and almost ready to go – they will be posted in that order unless suggestions turn up.)

All works will be Neal/WC point of view.

Enjoy!

Hint: Reviews, even without suggestions, and appreciated!

Word Count: 7,652

Pages: 24

Neal Caffrey swung his foot so that his heel tapped the metal frame of the bed he was currently lounging on. There wasn't much else to do in the tiny cell, in the tiny sheriff's office, in the tiny po-dunk town in the middle of nowhere. Unfortunately he was stuck there with his "escort", waiting for federal "back-up" so he could be "safely transported" back to the city.

Aforementioned escort was FBI Agent Peter Burke, who had also been the one to catch him after a good two years of playing cat-and-mouse. The agent had long since left when it became clear that a bored Neal Caffrey was an (even more) annoying Neal Caffrey. Which left Neal with nothing to do but swing his foot back and forth, hoping for someone to come back to entertain him and wishing that he could find a way out.

Unfortunately for Neal the agent knew him well enough to put him in a small cell at the far end of the holding room – which had only one exit/entrance that Neal was sure as being guarded religiously. The windows in these particular cells where barely big enough to poke your head through, and the glass was probably bullet proof to prevent them from being broken. The ventilation shaft was in the aisle with the air grates aimed at the cells, and not actually in them, so there was no form of escape there either. And the pretty receptionist, Nancy, hadn't even so much as peeked in at him so there was no chance of sweet-talking her into helping him.

Neal must have dozed off at some point, boredom finally getting the best of him, because the next thing he knew the doors at the end of the hall had swung open with a bang and he jumped. He cringed inwardly when he saw a stern looking African American man wearing a blue and yellow FBI jacket stride in followed by the harried looking sheriff. Not wanting to be caught unawares by yet another agent of the law, he stood up.

The drunkard that had been sleeping it off in the first cell was released after a few heated words between the new agent and the sheriff, and then the agent zeroed in on him. "Who's this?" Neal perked up, seeing an opportunity for escape in this clueless agent striding towards him.

"Uh, he's in the custody of another agent." The sheriff said with a shrug. "I really don't know about releasing this one. From what I hear he's pretty, uh, big stuff." The pair stopped in front of Neal's cell and Neal shot the agent a beaming grin.

"Big stuff? How kind of you, sheriff. But come on, man, you let that other guy go and I bet a drunk would do more damage than little old me. Have it in you to spare me, too?" The guy narrowed his eyes, studied him, and then finally motioned for the sheriff to open the cell door. Neal beamed.

"Hold it!" But before the sheriff could even touch the door, Agent Burke appeared.

"Crap." Neal mumbled, slumping a bit in resignation as Peter angrily stormed over to the small group. There went his brilliant escape plan.

"Who do you think you are, releasing _my _prisoner?" Burke got right up in this new guy's face, sending him reeling back a few paces in surprise. "Do you even know who you almost just let out?"

"Who the hell are you?" The new agent finally seemed to gather himself and pushed right back. Neal wondered if maybe he was about to witness a brawl between the two. He had to bite his lip to ward off a laugh as he imagined what his friend (and partner in crime) would do if he where there to witness to such an event. Probably grab some popcorn, or maybe a glass of wine, and settle down to enjoy the show.

"Agent Peter Burke, FBI, White Collar division out of New York City. And that's my prisoner you where about to carelessly release." Burke introduced, flipping out his wallet to show the man his badge and narrowing his eyes.

"Okay. Look, Agent Burke, I understand your… distress but the guys I'm bringing in are extremely dangerous. If I had it any other way, we would be going straight to SuperMax." The new agent said imperiously. "I don't feel comfortable having them around anyone else, even other criminals. No, especially other criminals."

"Well then we've got a problem because there's no way I'm letting you release Caffrey, and there's no way he's staying anywhere other than in that cell. Who are you, anyway?"

"Agent Victor Henrickson, major crimes department our of D.C.." Out came the new guys badge and the agents eyed each other some more, chests puffed out like roosters about to go at it.

"We have quite the dilemma, here." Neal commented, interrupting what he could only refer to as the pissing match. "Well I could always solve this for you – just let me go, yeah?" Neal suggested brightly. Peter Burke merely rolled his eyes in response.

"You be quiet." He said sternly, as if talking to a dog. Neal pouted.

"Look, I've been after these guys for a long time." Henrickson said, reclaiming Burke's attention. "We're investigating them for murder, arson, insurance fraud, credit card fraud, and of all things grave desecration, grave robbery, and other creepy assed things… You name it they've probably done it." Henrickson eyed Neal speculatively. "It would be best for all members involved if this guy could just disappear."

"Look, I appreciate that your guys are dangerous. I do. Murder is no laughing matter. And everything else is just plain sick." Neal couldn't help but nod in agreement. "And any other time I would help you out. But this guy has been on the run for years as well. He's non violent, but he's connected to the loss of hundreds of thousands of dollars related to bond forgery – and if I could pin it on him, he's suspected of art forgery and theft as well as handling stolen merchandise. We're talking millions of dollars. Not to mention he's a damn escape artist, this is the first time I've had him where I want him. If I let him go it might be years before I catch him again." Neal beamed with pride.

"Or you might never catch me again." He added helpfully. Burke narrowed his gaze in agitation and Neal figured now would be a good time to shut up. The agents eyed each other.

"All right. We'll have to work together on this, I suppose." Henrickson said, turning to the sheriff. Burke immediately relaxed, pissing match over, and Neal had to chase away the mental image of him pocketing a ruler. "Go tell my men to bring them in." The sheriff skittered off; probably glad to be away from the two agents. Neal watched him go longingly. "I'm suggesting leaving one of my men at the door back there. Close enough to keep an eye on them." Neal heard the 'but far enough away for them to think they're safe to talk' in there. Crafty. Very crafty. But if these guys where as dangerous as Henrickson was saying, Neal doubted they where dumb enough to say anything incriminating.

"That's fine by me. I might take advantage of that and grab some coffee after you get your suspects situated, if you don't mind. I've been up since early this morning and they ran out of coffee here a while back. Didn't want to leave him in this building with just the sheriff." Burke finally said. Henrickson nodded once.

"I'll have some, too, if you're going on a coffee run." Neal said, leaning on the bars of the cell. Both agents ignored him so he slumped in defeat. Then he meandered back to the tiny single bed, bare of any blankets or sheets. With a grimace of distaste he let himself fall onto it, grunting at the hardness. He crossed his hands as best he could while cuffed behind his head and let his eyes drift half shut. Burke and Henrickson muttered back and forth a little bit until the doors opened again.

He watched curiously as two men – one outrageously tall and one about his height if not slightly shorter – where escorted in. Their ankles where bound together by a full set of leg chains that where short enough to prevent running and kicking out. Another length of chain linked them together by said ankle chains. Their hands where cuffed in front of them, a stupid move in Neal's opinion considering any self respecting criminal could easily pick the cuffs in that position if given the opportunity.

The two where shuffled – rather pathetically, Neal might add - into the open cell directly across from Neal and the door slammed shut with a bang. Henrickson shot a smug look into the cell, and it was promptly ignored by the duo. "You behave." Burke said to him, making Neal cock an eyebrow and grin. Then they where gone, walking together like they where good friends and hadn't just nearly gotten into a fistfight over their criminal charges.

One of the small town cops situated himself by the door as they left. Neal made his way to the front of the cell and watched as the two young men shuffled around, muttering curses and tripping over the chains until they both sat on the single bed. "How the hell are we going to Houdini out of this one?" The shorter of the pair asked lowly. The other one shrugged.

"Are you really in for murder?" Neal asked curiously. The one sitting closer to the cell door, the shorter one, glanced up in surprise.

"It's a long – and not very believable – story kid." He eventually said in a tired, worn out tone of voice. Neal tilted his head slightly. He spent a few minutes studying the pair closely as they mumbled on and off.

The way they where sitting and interacting told him volumes – close together, alert, in sync. They where very close to one another. Minor physical similarities indicated relatives of some sort. Brothers, or maybe close cousins. The taller one was, surprisingly enough, likely the younger of the pair judging by the way he was tucked protectively back from the front of the cell.

Even though they seemed to be on edge, ready for anything, nothing about them screamed 'murderer' to him. Neal prided himself on being a very sound judge of character. He had to be when dealing with other criminals, fences, and people who would just as rather shoot you as they would complete a deal. Some people where just greedy, wanting both product and cash. These two, despite the tightly wired body language that just screamed 'don't mess with me', just didn't seem like the cold-blooded murdering type.

Neal didn't try to engage them in conversation again, even though he caught the younger of the two shooting him curious glances every so often. He sat back on the single bed and waited, watching as the pair shifted until they too where comfortable. Eventually Henrickson re-appeared and stopped in front of their cell, his back tilted towards Neal slightly. Dismissing him, for the most part.

"Sam and Dean Winchester. It's been a long time, boys." The older of the pair made a face and eventually retorted:

"Not long enough."

"You know what I'm trying to decide?" Henrickson continued as if the other man hadn't said anything.

"Whether or not cialis will help you with your little condition?" They nudged one another and Neal held back a snicker. Definitely brothers.

"What to have for dinner tonight: steak or lobster. Or what the hell: surf and turf." Neal grimaced. There must have been bad blood between this agent and the duo, because the man's tone was downright chilly. Peter Burke had never spoken like that to him. Taunted, yes, but never outright cruel. "I got a lot to celebrate. I mean, after all, seeing you two in chains…" But then again, if these guys did everything this agent accused them of – which Neal doubted – then maybe he had reason to be so cruel.

"You kinky son-of-a-bitch!" The older one wrinkled his nose. "We don't swing that way." Henrickson made a little face and Neal smirked. Score one for the Winchesters.

"Now, that's funny."

"You know, I wouldn't bust out the melted butter just yet. Couldn't catch us at the bank, couldn't keep us in that jail." Henrickson made a face that Neal interpreted as 'wounded pride' and anger before smoothing over. Winchesters two, Henrickson zero. Neal felt the need to introduce himself to them properly when the agent left.

"You're right. Screwed up. I underestimated you. I didn't count on you being that smart but now I'm ready."

"Yeah, ready to lose us again?"

"Ready like a court order to keep you in a Super Maximum prison in Nevada till trial. Ready like isolation in a soundproof, windowless cell, so that between you and me… probably unconstitutional." Neal shivered at the thought. "How's that for ready?" He suddenly grinned, almost evilly, and Neal felt slightly uncomfortable. "Take a good look at Sam; you two will never see each other again." Neal watched as the pair immediately sobered. Score one for Henrickson "Where's that smug smile, Dean? I want to see it."

"You got the wrong guys." The older one was Dean, then, Neal thought.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot. You fight monsters. Sorry, Dean. Truth is, your daddy brainwashed you with all that devil talk and no doubt touched you in a bad place. That's all, that's reality." Neal watched as the taller of the two, Sam, who had been slumped back, straightened and they leaned forward in unison. Their faces where carefully masked in cold anger and Neal could see why they could be taken for murderers. But Henrickson was out of line, there, and Neal gave the man a glare of his own.

"You sick son of a bitch." Dean said lowly. He was interrupted by a loud whirring sound and Henrickson merely grinned. The Winchesters glanced at the window and Neal recognized the sound of a helicopter just as a bright light shone in the tiny window.

"That would be your ride. Enjoy your last few minutes together, boys." Then Henrickson was gone. Once he was sure Henrickson was gone Neal stood and approached the bars, just as the pair stood up themselves. He had a very bad feeling about what was going to happen in the near future.

"What a dick." Dean muttered. "Well got any ideas, geek boy?" Sam shook his shaggy head helplessly.

"This window is too small and they'd be able to see us if we tried. Even if we could get out and get the cuffs off, we'd likely be gunned down before we could get very far."

"I could get the cuffs off of you if you can't pick them. Cuffs and restraints are sort of a specialty of mine." Neal offered, catching their attention. "I should even be able to open the doors. The only problem is that guard - If we could get him to take off then we could possibly get up in the ventilation system and crawl out that way." He pointed out. The Winchester brothers looked a little stunned, but before they could comment they where interrupted by the door banging open.

Another agent, slightly balding and smiling even more smugly than Henrickson, strode down the aisle. This man made Neal's hackles rise rather unpleasantly as he came to a stop in front of the Winchesters. He completely ignored Neal as he spoke to the boys. "I've been waiting a long time for the two of you to come out of the woodwork." There was a moment of silence as the man just grinned. Then, before the Winchesters could say anything in response, he pulled out his gun.

Neal backpedaled away from the front of the cell in surprise and the man aimed the gun at Dean. There was a bang as the trigger was pulled and Neal flinched at Dean's pained yell, almost yelling himself as he hit the back wall. Sam moved quickly, almost too quickly for Neal to track with surprised eyes, and grabbed at the weapon. The pair wrestled through the bars for a few minutes, both trying to get control of the gun, before Sam began to chant.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica…"

"Sorry to cut this short, but I gotta scoot. It's been real fun, fellas." And Neal watched in muted horror as the man's head slammed back and he screamed. Only, as he screamed a thick black smoke poured out and vanished up the ventilator shaft. The body fell limply and Sam stepped back, gun in hand. Neal blinked a few times, staring at the unmoving body. Before he could find his voice and ask what the hell had happened the sheriff, Henrickson, and Burke - along with the rest of the tiny police force – arrived with their guns drawn.

"Put the gun down!" Henrickson shouted after taking quick stock of the situation. Sam immediately assumed an un-threatening position, hands raised.

"Ok, wait - I didn't shoot him!" He said hastily as the weapons narrowed in on him.

"Get on your knees!" Henrickson growled.

"He shot me!" Dean cursed as Sam knelt and dropped the weapon out of the cell, speaking rapidly as he did so.

"Okay, okay, okay. Don't shoot. Please. Look. Here. Here." One of the cops grabbed at the gun. "We didn't shoot him. Check the body. There's no blood. We didn't kill him. Go ahead, check him." One of the cops checked over the agent's body and confirmed Sam's statement.

"No bullet wound."

"He's probably been dead for months." Neal took a shaky breath even as Dean sat up, clutching at his shoulder. Neal grimaced at the sight of the blood staining the leather jacket.

"What did you do to him?" Henrickson asked, gun unwavering.

"Nothing." Dean spat.

"Talk or I shoot." Even Burke frowned at that. It wasn't 'just' to shoot an unarmed man in a jail cell, suspect or not. Go Peter, Neal thought vaguely.

"They're telling the truth." Neal finally managed to pipe up, not moving from where he was plastered to the back of the cell. Burke eyed him suspiciously but must have read the honesty in his terrified gaze because he nodded minutely.

"You wouldn't believe us if we told you what really happened." Dean finally said. Henrickson gave them a look even as everyone else holstered their weapons. "He was possessed." The man snorted. But before anyone could say anything else, there was a loud boom and the building shook. Everyone ducked down as if expecting the building to collapse on them, and even the Winchesters looked genuinely shocked.

"Dammit! Now what?" Henrickson pulled out his walkie as one of the deputies raced out of the holding area to investigate. Neal hesitantly made his way to the front of the cell as the agent tried to rouse someone on the walkie. All Neal could hear was garbled static.

"That isn't good." Burke said softly. Henrickson turned to the brothers as something finally came over the walkie. It sounded like 'explosion' and 'dead'. Neal gulped.

"What's the plan?" Henrickson asked harshly. "Kill everyone in the station? Bust you two out?" The genuine looks of anger and shock on their faces where enough to convince Neal that this hadn't been planned.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean asked in concern and anger.

"I'm talking about your psycho friends. I'm talking about the blood bath." Henrickson waved towards the window. The brothers frowned.

"Okay, I promise you that whoever's out there is not here to help us." Dean said wryly.

"Look, you got to believe us. Everyone here is in terrible danger." Sam spoke up. Neal felt the need to tell the idiot agents to listen to the guy, but Burke gave him a look – the man had to be psychic to be able to know instinctively when Neal was about to speak - and he kept his mouth shut.

"You think?"

"Why don't you let us out of here so we can save your asses?" Dean finally snapped.

"From what?" They stayed quiet as Henrickson snarled. "You gonna say 'demons'? Don't you dare say 'demons'. Let me tell you something. You should be a lot more scared of me." Then he turned to his men and the remaining officers and they stalked out angrily. After a few seconds and a long measuring look, Burke followed. Neal turned to the Winchesters.

"That… before. What you where saying. It was Latin, right?" He asked hesitantly.

"Yeah." Dean answered shortly.

"So, that guy was really possessed?" He purposely avoided looking at the body that had been dragged away from them. "I though demons and possession where a myth." He said shakily. The Winchesters glanced up at him in surprise.

"What do you know about demons?" Sam asked curiously.

"You hear about things in the underground. Demons are a popular topic, but I thought people where being metaphorical when they gossiped about it." Neal said weakly. "You know, like 'something possessed me to do it' and all that. I didn't really figure that it was literal. Rather, I had my suspicions but didn't want to believe it."

"Underground?"

"You don't think I'm in here because I'm an upstanding citizen, do you?" Neal asked with a grin, rattling his own handcuffs. "So that thing you didn't think I would believe. This it?" The two nodded. "How do YOU know about them, then?"

"We hunt the supernatural. Keep people safe." Dean said. "Family business, I guess. Sometimes we have to do illegal shit when we hunt – as you already heard, I'm sure." Neal nodded. "Well I'm Dean and that's my brother Sam." Neal nodded, puffing up a little bit at having been able to put the pieces together early on.

"Neal Caffrey." He offered.

"Wait, the art forger?" Sam asked. Neal did a little mock bow.

"Alleged." Neal corrected automatically. This earned him an impressed look from Sam and a confused look from Dean. "They got me on bond forgery, though, not art forgery." Neal explained.

"Bond forgery?" Dean finally asked. "Well huh." Suddenly Sam tilted his head at something and Neal turned to see the receptionist, Nancy, standing there. The cop guarding the door was gone.

"Hey." Sam said in a soothing voice that made even Neal calm down somewhat. Damn this guy was good – he could switch between cold and calculating to pleasant and soothing in a second. "Uh, please. We need your help. It's… its Nancy, right? Nancy, my brother's been shot. He's bleeding. You think maybe you could get us a towel? Just one clean towel? We're not the bad guys. I swear." The girl disappeared without saying a word and Sam looked frustrated.

"Are you okay?" Neal finally asked Dean. Before Dean could answer the girl returned with a white towel. Neal watched as the towel was handed over and his eyebrow cocked when he saw Sam's fingers deftly and easily swipe the rosary around the girl's wrist. She disappeared and Sam turned to Dean.

"Damn. Yeah, I'll be fine. Just a flesh wound that hurts like a bitch." Neal winced as the younger brother pushed the towel to Dean's wound and stayed quiet as they tried to stop the bleeding. The rosary was tossed into the toilet and Neal refrained from making a comment. Good thing because seconds later a very freaked out sheriff was bursting through the door and rushing down the aisle to open their cell door.

"It's time to go, boys." Almost immediately Dean was standing next to Sam as if he hadn't been shot, and they where backing away from the man.

"Uh… you know what? We're just comfy right here. But thank you." Dean said. Neal glanced to the doors as Henrickson appeared to stalk down to their cell. Neal felt his hackles rise as the man passed.

"What do you think you're doing?" Henrickson snarled.

"We're not just gonna sit around here and wait to die. We're gonna make a run for it." The sheriff said.

"It's safer here." Henrickson said.

"There's a SWAT facility in Boulder." The sheriff said. Then Neal jumped back a few feet as Henrickson pulled his gun, aimed, and fired a bullet right into the man's head before anyone could move. Neal gagged as what had to be brain matter and bone splattered out behind the man. He felt some blood splash him.

"We're not going anywhere." Henrickson snarled. The sheriff slumped to the ground, dead, and Neal felt his stomach twist sickeningly. Very briefly Neal saw the man's eyes flash black but then Sam and Dean where moving as one despite the chains. They wrestled Henrickson over to the toilet. Neal finally backpedaled to the back of his cell as they gave the agent what had to be the world's biggest swirly and Sam began to chant in Latin.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, et secta diabolica, Ergo draco maledicte et section"

"It's too late, I already called them!" Henrickson said in a snarl as they pulled him up. "They're already coming!" He was dunked again.

"Ergo draco maledicte et legio secta diabolica Ut Ecclésiam tuam secúra tibi fácias servire libertáte, te rogámus, audi nos." Sam finished. A few minutes later Neal watched as a mass of black smoke similar to what he saw before poured from the guy's mouth. Henrickson slumped back and Sam and Dean jumped away as the cops and Nancy arrived.

"Is he… dead?" Nancy asked even as the cops drew their weapons. Then Henrickson coughed and sputtered to Neal's relief – two people collapsing dead in front of him was more than enough to witness in a lifetime, let alone in one day.

"Henrickson, hey, is that you in there?" Sam asked after Henrickson pulled himself up.

"I… I shot the sheriff." Henrickson finally said stupidly.

"But you didn't shoot the deputy." Neal almost laughed out loud even as Sam shot his brother an exasperated look.

"Five minutes ago, I was fine, and then…" Henrickson said shakily.

"Let me guess. Some nasty black smoke jammed itself down your throat?" Dean asked sarcastically.

"You were possessed." Sam supplied.

"Possessed like… possessed?"

"That's what it feels like. Now you know." Henrickson looked pale.

"I owe you the biggest "I told you so" ever." Dean finally said. Henrickson merely swallowed, eyes wide. "Now can you let us out of these chains so we can, oh, help save your asses?" Neal nodded frantically even though no one was looking at him.

Henrickson immediately began releasing them from the chains and soon they where standing free as Neal cowered on the back wall of the cell. "Him too." He blinked in surprise as Sam stopped everyone from leaving. Then Burke was there, eyes hard, standing in their way.

"This guy really IS a criminal. I can't let you release him."

"He isn't going to run." Sam argued. "We can't leave him sitting there like bait, he'll be safer with us. Plus he looks like he's in shock. He just saw a cop get his brains splattered all over a prison cell and he'd covered in blood." Neal wanted to agree, but he stayed quiet and wiped at his face. Yep, blood. The cell door was finally opened and Neal jumped. Burke was in front of him in a flash.

"Snap out of it, Neal." The cuffs where removed. "Come on." Neal willingly followed the fed out of the cell, eyes avoiding the bloody mess that was once the sheriff. He was silent as they made their way out to the lobby, where everyone crowded around the desks. Sam silently handed him a towel and Neal scrubbed the blood off of his face, neck, and hands.

"So demons are real." Henrickson finally said. "And that thing said it called more of them. So we're going to need all the firearms and weapons we can find." Neal cringed.

"They won't do any good." Dean said quickly. "It's like poking a bear with a BB gun – it'll just piss them off even more." Henrickson frowned. "We need salt – lots and lots of salt."

"Salt. We're going to – and I can't believe I'm saying this – fight off demons with salt?" Burke asked incredulously. Neal couldn't help but agree with his incredulity a little bit, but he figured that these guys would know what they where talking about.

"I vote we listen to the demon hunters." He said softly, quickly.

"Salt is pure – it drives evil forces away, including demons." Sam explained. "If you make a circle of it and step inside, or put it in front of doors or windows, then a demon or ghost won't be able to get you. Throw stuff at you, sure, but they can't physically cross the barrier." He continued. "It isn't a permanent safety, unless it's literally installed in the woodwork of a building, but it helps in some situations and can slow them down."

"We're going to need stuff from the Impala – where's my car?" Neal tucked himself in one of the rolling chairs next to Nancy, feeling very out of his league in this. He let the agents, cops, and hunters duke out what would happen next and tried to calm himself by taking deep breaths. One day he would have to thank Mozzie for teaching him about relaxation breathing techniques. "Okay," Dean's voice caught his attention. "So I'll run and get some things from the car – you guys take care of finding salt and spray paint."

"There's some road salt in the storage room." Nancy offered.

"Salt all the windows and doors. Draw some traps by the doors leading out. And maybe the windows you think someone could fit through." There was a flurry of activity and Neal jumped as Sam suddenly stopped in front of him. The guy looked concerned as he paused.

"Hey, Neal, you okay?"

"Uh, yeah. I guess. Just not big on guns and violence and… well, anything that's been going on." Neal said softly. "Strictly white collar, here." Sam nodded.

"Why don't you come with me and Nancy to find the salt and some spray paint?" He suggested. "Something tells me these guys," He nodded at the agents. "Won't be very companionable." He said lowly.

"No way, he's not going anywhere." Burke spoke up from where he was talking with Henrickson. Neal pouted. He would almost rather be stuck with demons. But surprisingly Sam stuck up for him.

"There's an army of demons on the way, I seriously doubt he'll take off now. I'll keep an eye on him – we might need another hand with the salt. Besides, it isn't a good idea for him to just sit around and do nothing – he's still in shock and if he isn't distracted from it…"

"All right." Burke finally said. "Caffrey, you behave or so help me God…" Neal gave him an innocent look but hopped up to join Sam and Nancy.

"Thanks for not leaving me there with them." He said as he followed the pair to the storeroom, Nancy leading the way.

"Wouldn't do that to anyone." Sam replied. "They don't seem like terrible people, but they are Feds and they're not big on sympathy." Neal nodded in agreement. The storeroom Nancy led them to yielded several cans of spray paint and a few large bags of road salt. Neal grabbed a few of the bags, Sam the rest, and Nancy grabbed the cans. They returned to the desk area where Burke seemed to have been on high alert.

"Now what?" Nancy asked as they unloaded their burdens.

"Now we split up. We need to draw the traps by windows and doors leading out. Salt everything, too." Sam replied. "Neal, if I show you a picture could you replicate it?"

"Stupid question - he's an art forger. Of course he could." Burke chimed in.

"Alleged." Neal corrected with a pout. But Sam wasn't listening, already drawing a crude symbol on a scrap of paper. Neal examined it and nodded. "I can do it."

"Good. I'll go with Nancy and you can go with Agent Burke." Sam decided, shooting him an apologetic look. "Make sure to draw that big enough that it covers a few inches past the ends of the door or window. And the salt needs to be laid in a single unbroken line a couple inches across."

"Right." Neal nodded. Burke immediately glued himself to Neal's side, grabbing a couple of bags of salt. He and Sam studied the layout of the building, which was to their relief only one story. Sam and Nancy would cover the one side, he and Burke the other. They split up, leaving Henrickson behind to wait for Dean.

Neal walked quickly as they made their way to the first window. Before starting, Neal turned to Burke with a serious expression. "Look, this is bigger than either of us." He said quietly. "I propose a truce until we get out of here alive – I won't do anything to try to escape and you don't shoot me."

"I wouldn't shoot you." Burke finally said. "But yeah, I agree. Deal with this, but Caffrey – I'm still bringing you in. No trying to escape until we're actually out of here and safe." Neal nodded and they shook hands in agreement.

From then on they worked in silence, as a team. Neal painted and Burke laid salt lines. They covered one end to the other and eventually met up with Sam and Nancy. When they finally reached the desk area they saw Dean and the deputy was back in once piece, and a pile of weapons was laid out on the table.

"There's a whole horde of them." Dean said. "I could see the smoke. They should be here any…" The building shuddered and the lights went out. "Minute." Dean finished lamely. Neal cringed away from the weapons even as the wind howled. Maybe it was the demons.

"Everyone should wear one of these." Sam said as he picked up a pouch. Charms where handed out. "They protect you from possession."

"What about you?" Henrickson asked. Both pulled a corner of their shirts down to reveal an intricate tattoo. "Nice. How long did you have those?"

"Not long enough." Sam said softly. Neal quickly pulled the charm necklace on. "Each of you should have a weapon – we might be able to hold them off. The salt rounds won't hurt the humans, but the demons might flee." Neal hesitantly took the gun and extra rounds Dean passed him.

"You know how to use that?" Burke asked suddenly. Neal nodded.

"Not liking and not knowing how aren't the same." Neal replied unhappily. Before Burke could comment there was a loud crack. Broken glass. Immediately everyone was on the move and Neal followed the group to find a blond standing in one of their traps. Neal felt his hackles rise again.

"How do we kill her? It?" Henrickson asked, raising his weapon automatically.

"We don't." Sam said softly.

"She's a demon!" Henrickson pointed out.

"She's here to help us." Sam moved to let her out of the trap.

"And they say chivalry's dead." The blonde commented. "Does anyone have a breath mint? Some guts splattered in my mouth while I was killing my way in here." Neal backed away as she pushed through the group.

"How many are out there?" Dean asked as they made their way back to the main room.

"Thirty. Maybe more." Dean swore as Neal took his seat next to Nancy.

"Oh, good. Thirty. Thirty hit men all gunning for us. Who sent them?" Neal caught her surprised look towards Sam, who shifted uncomfortably.

"You didn't tell Dean?" Ruby asked. Dean shot a look at Sam. "Ooh, I'm surprised."

"Tell me what?"

"There's a big new up and corner. Real pied piper." Ruby said.

"Who is he?"

"Not he. Her. Her name is Lilith." Dean made a face. "And she really, really wants Sam's intestines on a stick. 'Cause she sees him as a competition." Neal shot a look to Sam, who now looked very guilty.

" You knew about this? Well, gee, Sam. Is there anything else I should know?" Neal cringed along with Sam at Dean's tone.

"How about the two of you talk about this later? We'll need the colt." Neal just looked confused, but when Sam and Dean say nothing Ruby spoke again. "Where's the colt?"

"It got stolen." Sam admitted.

"I'm sorry. I must have blood in my ear. I thought I just heard you say that you were stupid enough to let the Colt get grabbed out of your thick, clumsy, idiotic hands. Fantastic. This is just peachy…"

"Ruby…"

"Shut up." Neal shot a surprised look at Dean when the older Winchester didn't protest to being spoken down to like that. "Fine. Since I don't see that there's no other any option. There's one other way I know how to get you out of here alive."

"What's that?"

"I know a spell. It'll vaporize every demon in a one-mile radius. Myself included. So, you let the colt out of your sight and now I have to die. So next time, be more careful. How's that for a dying wish?" Neal cringed.

"Okay, what do we need to do?"

" Aww… you can't do anything. This spell is very specific. It calls for a person of virtue." Neal immediately knew what she meant, and also knew he wasn't going to like what it would result in.

"I got virtue." Dean said with a grin.

"Nice try. You're not a virgin." Ruby said with a wry grin.

"Nobody's a virgin." Dean scoffs. Neal felt Nancy stiffen beside him and he let out a small groan. Then Ruby was looking at them – at Nancy. Dean blinked a few times in confusion, glanced at Sam, then back at Nancy.

"No. No way. You're kidding me. You're…"

"What? It's a choice, okay?"

"So, y-you've never… Not even once? I mean not even…" He got an amazed look on his face. "Wow…"

"So, this spell… what can I do?" Nancy asked.

"You can hold still while I cut your heart out of your chest." Ruby said as she hopped up. Immediately Neal stood as well and got in front of Nancy.

"What?" Nancy squeaked behind him.

"What? Are you crazy?"

"No more killing." Neal agreed.

"I'm offering a solution."

"You're offering to kill somebody."

"And what do you think is gonna happen to this girl when the demons get in?"

"We're gonna protect her. That's what." Neal nodded in agreement. An argument then proceeded to break out, everyone arguing for one thing or another. Nancy stepped around Neal.

"Would everybody please shut up?" Everyone fell silent. "All the people out there… will it save them?"

"It'll blow the demons out of their bodies. So if their bodies are okay… yeah." Neal shook his head in horror as Nancy stared determinedly at Ruby.

"I'll do it." And then chaos. Neal slid back as everyone started arguing. Ruby was also quiet, slightly amused as Sam and Dean argued with Nancy and Henrickson and Burke argued with both them AND Nancy.

"Back in the day, a little virgin sacrifice meant nothing." Ruby commented. Neal jumped as she appeared next to him. "You're not like them."

"I prefer my crimes and action to be less… bloody and final." Neal said with a gulp. Eventually everyone stopped arguing when Dean finished with a:

"It doesn't mean that we throw away the rule book and stop acting like humans. I'm not gonna let you that demon kill some nice, sweet, innocent girl, who hasn't even been laid. I mean, look, if that's how you win wars, then I don't want to win." Everyone was silent.

"So what then?" Ruby asked mockingly.

"We open the doors. Let them in. Fight." Neal didn't like the sound of that either, but he stayed silent and Ruby was escorted from the building with a withering look. Neal reluctantly joined the group gathered around Dean, tucking in next to Burke of all people.

"Don't touch my wallet." Burke mumbled half-heartedly. Just because he could and because he couldn't stop himself, Neal quietly lifted the man's wallet and pocketed it without even twitching do much as a muscle on his face. He always did pickpocket more when he was stressed.

"Okay, here's the plan." Dean announced. "We need to get all these demons INSIDE so we can trap them and exorcise them." Complete and total silence.

"Okay. Elaborate." Burke said.

"We open the front and back doors." Dean said. "Then we let them in. Lure them in here, t the center of the building. Some of us go outside and close the doors when we're sure everyone is inside. RE-set the salt lines from the outside. When we're sure we're good, someone can read the exorcism ritual over the loudspeakers."

"That… doesn't sound like a half bad plan." Henrickson finally said. The deputy nodded shakily.

"Then because it sounds like Lilith is behind all this, you guys get the hell out and Sam and I go after the bitch." Dean concluded. "So, sound like a plan?"

An hour later Neal and Nancy crept out of the building and hid themselves amongst the impounded cars. Neal caught sight of the big black Impala that belonged to the Winchester brothers and took a second to admire it. But then the police center door swung open, distracting him.

It didn't even occur to him that now would be an excellent opportunity to escape. Well, not for more than a few seconds. He had Burke's wallet, complete with a hundred bucks after all. Then he shook his head. He may be a criminal, but he wouldn't run from a situation where he was needed. Period.

He and Nancy watched as the demons rushed into the building. First one or two, then a couple more, then the rest followed. They waited a few minutes to see if any more popped up but none did. They rushed to slam the front door closed and lay down the salt line. Then they ran around to the back, checking for demons before closing that door as well.

As they where laying down the line Neal felt a solid object run into the door and he was thrown backwards. A tall man exited, eyes pitch black. He locked gazes with Neal, and then bolted as Neal got up to close the door again. He helped Nancy with the salt, his torn palms stinging a bit. They stepped back.

As they kept watch they could hear gunshots from inside, then finally they heard Sam's muffled voice speaking bits and pieces of the exorcism. Neal watched in awed horror as several vortexes of smoke spiraled out of the building – one spiraling out to knock them over – to eventually congeal in one giant mass of black. Then with a crack of light, it all disappeared.

"I'm so going out and having lots and lots of sex later." Nancy mumbled from beside him. Neal glanced at her with a wry grin. The back door opened and Sam stepped out.

"You guys okay?" He helped Nancy to her feet but just as he turned to help Neal a blur shot past them – Neal grimaced as Agent Burke none-to-gently helped him roll over and pinned him to the ground. "Is that really necessary?" Sam asked as Burke cuffed him. Again.

"He's been un-cuffed for too long already." Burke said as he helped Neal to his feet. Neal shrugged at Sam as the rest of the group joined them. "And on that note, I think I'm going to take my chances with him in my car."

"You're taking off." Henrickson nodded. "We'll clean up here, come up with some way to get these two out of FBI scrutiny." Neal longingly wished that he, too, could be out from under the microscope but accepted that it wouldn't happen. Unlike the Winchester brothers, he was actually guilty of his crimes.

"Under any other circumstance it would have been a pleasure to meet you." Burke said as the agents shook hands. Burke even shook Sam and Dean's hands, and nodded to the remaining officer and Nancy. Without a word Neal deftly picked the cuffs and extended his hand to Sam and Dean.

"Thanks." Was all he said. Burke was shocked for the few seconds it took Neal to say goodbye, and Sam and Dean both grinned when Neal deftly replaced the cuffs with his hands in front of him this time before Burke could say anything. With an irritated mutter Burke grabbed at his arm and Neal let him pull him to the car park, where Burke's car was parked safely away from the ruins of the helicopter.

As he was pushed into the car he glanced back to see the small group watching them. He lifted a hand to wave and grinned when they waved back. Even Henrickson. "God what a week." Burke said as they pulled away from the precinct. "And you better keep your mouth shut, hands to yourself, and so help me God if you bug me…"

"No bugging, got it." Neal agreed. Then he couldn't help himself. "Charming photo by the way – your wife looks absolutely wonderful." There was a curse as Burke shifted in the drivers seat, patting his pockets.

"Caffrey! Give me back my wallet!"

END


	2. NYC Prison Blues

_NYC Prison Blues_

Series: Supernatural Collar

Parings: mention of Neal/Kate, Sam/Jessica

Warnings: some blood, language, and violence

Summary: Neal Caffrey has been in prison for going on two years when Sam and Dean re-appear. This time, they're not hunting demons. Pre-series crossover with Supernatural.

**DISCLAIMER**: I still don't own Supernatural, White Collar, or any of the characters associated with either show.

Author's Note:

Pre-series White Collar (still)

Late Season Four of Supernatural (kind of based on Folsom Prison Blues in second season but not exactly the same). So yeah, Dean went to hell and came back. But Sam hasn't gotten to Lilith yet! So no Lucifer. But the angels are around.

SUPERNATURAL TIMELINES ARE DIFFERENT, obviously. Two years did not pass between Jus in Bello and Dean's resurrection (well, not a full two years as far as I can figure.)

Suggestions still welcome!

This is a continuation following Jus in Bello, but can be read alone as a one-shot.

Thanks to my reviewers, readers, and followers! I've got a third installment already done and waiting to be posted in the next couple of weeks, and I'm working on a fourth. I don't know if there will be a fifth or not, and I'm throwing around ideas for other one shots to post in this collection.

Word Count: 6,734

Pages: 22

Neal added another tick mark to the array of neatly lined marks adorning the wall of the cell that he'd called home for the past five hundred and forty nine days. "Breakfast in ten, Caffrey." Neal turned to grin at the guard on shift and waved in understanding. The man moved on and Neal capped his marker and stuck it under the sink.

Prison, although strictly ruled and completely boring, hadn't been nearly as bad (or as violent) as he had feared it would be. Of course, he was in a federally run maximum security facility with strict regulations – according to Gary from four cells over, state-run prisons where much worse. Those prisons didn't have clear cut divisions that kept violent offenders away from the non-violent ones. This one, however, housed violent offenders on the first five floors while non-violent offenders took up the top five floors. This meant that Neal was happily sequestered away with felons that wouldn't be as likely to hit – or rape – him.

The only time he was anywhere near the violent offenders was during rec time. The rec yards where located on one side of the building only, all conjoined by electrically charged fencing. But non-violent offenders where allowed to stay indoors either in the library or one of the indoor rec rooms, so he was very happy to say that he didn't have to watch his ass – literally – while he was locked away.

The general living accommodations where acceptable to him largely in part because he was alone in the double cell as part of the requirements Burke specified when he was sentenced. "I don't want him to have the chance to make an accomplice that would help him with a foolish escape attempt" where near his exact words. Neal snorted. As if he would try to escape a maximum security prison! He wouldn't lie, though – he was proud that Burke would even think it possible.

The double cell was simple – three solid walls, one bed, a toilet, a sink, shelves built into the wall next to the sink. The barred front of the cell meant he had nothing to stare at but the guy across from him (separated by ten feet of space, three of which was open to see the floors below, and a line of bars) but people moved around a lot, so some times he got lucky and was literally "alone" for weeks at a time. Today he noticed there was what other inmates called a 'welcome packet' sitting on the bunk beds in the opposite cell, so his run of luck was done for. He would be staring at two new inmates later on.

There was much to be desired as far as socialization went, and that was the only real downside. He had three choices – the violent offenders, the non-violent offenders, or the guards. Really only two choices, because he preferred to stay away from the violent offenders other than to do business – cards or art in return for some protection outside – at all cost. Of the non-violent offenders only a few where actually personable while the rest merely wanted to make use of his talents, and he didn't chat with the guards a lot in fear of being called a snitch.

The only reprieve he got was in Kate, his girlfriend, when she visited him once a week without fail. She brought with her new art supplies, books, word from mutual friends, and occasionally some juicy gossip. And every holiday he happily posted a hand drawn card to one Peter Burke, the FBI agent who put him behind bars to begin with.

And to think he had another two and a half years to go of this….

The cell doors in his row swung open as one and he heard the other convicts shuffling around, getting ready to head to the cafeteria for breakfast. He hung back until most where gone, not wanting to be trampled in the rush, then made his way leisurely to the cafeteria where he collected his properly portioned meal of oatmeal and a fruit.

As breakfast drew to a close the outside doors where unlocked, giving the felons freedom for the next couple hours before they would be hustled back for some "down time" before lunch. Today Neal threw his trash out and decided to get some fresh air, so he followed a few men down several flights of stairs to the open rec yard. He skirted around the felons eyeing him – he wasn't naïve, he knew why they where eyeing him – and avoided the basketball game in progress.

There was a small crowd around the table he usually set up at with a deck of cards so he meandered over to see what was going on. Several felons gave him the evil eye as he sidled up, careful not to nudge or step on anybody. What he found when he finally got close enough made his jaw drop.

"Okay, who's up next? Who can beat the master? Come on, come on!" Dean Winchester was expertly shuffling a deck of cards, a huge pile of cigarettes by his elbow, grinning as a burly inmate stalked away from what was obviously a loss. Standing behind him to the left, rolling his eyes, was his decidedly shaggier looking younger (despite being much taller and broader) brother Sam.

"You've got to be cheating!" One inmate shouted out. There was a grumbling roar of agreement from the group. Dean grinned unabashedly, cards flying as expertly as Neal could have managed. A nearby guard must have been alerted by the noise because he started over. The crowd immediately dispersed until only Neal was left standing there. Both Winchesters started in obvious surprise to see him and he grinned.

"Hey, guys." The guard that had been coming over paused now that the group was dispersed. Neal immediately plopped on the bench seat, making himself look totally unthreatening. After a few tense minutes the guard moved away.

"Neal?" Sam asked. "Man, talk about coincidence." He sat next to Dean and slid his long legs under the picnic table. "I mean, it never even occurred to me that we would end up at the place you where sent to!"

"Coincidence? More like bad luck." Dean grumbled with a frown. "Not that you're not a cool guy and all, but you really do seem to have shit luck when it comes to being in the wrong place at the wrong time." The elder Winchester stated. Neal frowned unhappily.

"You're here after a demon?" He could practically hear the whine in his own voice. What could he say? He did NOT like demons.

"Not exactly." Dean said, glancing around. He leaned forward. "I don't know if you've noticed, but this place has all the signs of a haunting." Neal blinked.

"Haunting? So, ghosts are real too?" Was all he could ask at that revelation. "Like, Casper the friendly ghost kind of ghost?"

"More like the thing from Poltergeist, or one of those classic horror flicks." Dean corrected. "Haven't met any Caspers yet and we've taken care of a LOT of hauntings." Neal gulped.

"Wait, that's not true." Sam interrupted. "There was the ghost who was stuck in sort of a time loop. Same time every year she would appear on a highway, running from something. Turned out she drifted on that very road and killed someone in addition to herself – the malevolent spirit there was the guy she killed. But her spirit remained in a state of confusion and wouldn't move on." Sam spoke up. "Other than appearing in front of motorists, she wasn't overly hostile. Just confused." Dean nodded in remembrance.

"So how do you get rid of a ghost?" Neal asked, almost dreading the answer.

"Spirits are tied to this world by something physical, like their remains. Or if they where cremated they can be tied to an object or lock of hair. Sometimes even to a person." Sam explained. "We have to burn what they're tied to." Neal paled at the implication of that.

"Yeah, that's why Henrickson was after us for grave desecration." Dean piped up. "In the case of a ghost tied to their remains you basically have to cremate the remains – salt, gasoline, and light a match." Neal almost gagged. He recovered quickly though. "So tell us about this place – geek boy here did some research but it's good to have the inside scoop."

"Well, the prison is segregated by floor." Neal started to explain. "Most of the non-violent offenders like myself are on the top several floors while the more violent offenders are on the bottom floors. Each floor has it's own cafeteria, recreation room, and work out room. The only time violent and non-violent offenders are together is now, when the outside yards are open. They're open twice a day from 9-11 and again from 1-4."

"What's the sixth floor?" Sam asked.

"Non-violent." Neal answered promptly. "Two floors below me. Why?" He asked curiously.

"That's where most of the activity takes place." Sam mused. Neal tilted his head.

"You do realize that unless you've somehow been placed in non-violent, you wont be able to get to that floor. Right?" Sam and Dean shared a look before Sam leaned forward.

"When that precinct blew up and we where reported as dead, somehow our files at the FBI got lost." Sam said softly. "When we looked into this case I hacked the system to find that our information, photos, everything was gone. They have nothing on us." Neal frowned.

"How did that happen?" Neal asked.

"We don't know. A lot has happened since we last saw you and a lot doesn't make sense." Dean replied. Neal didn't miss the guilty downturn of Sam's head or the hard stare Dean gave him.

"But anyway, we're in for non-violent offenses." Sam continued. "Credit card and insurance fraud." Neal nodded. Then his mind wandered back to the welcome packs on the beds in the cell across from him and he beamed.

"Any chance you guys are on floor eight, cell 11?" He asked curiously.

"Yeah, that's us. Why?"

"Once again, either coincidence or bad luck on my part." Neal said. "You're right across from me." Sam and Dean both looked startled but Sam eventually quirked a grin. There was a sharp whistle and Neal glanced up to see the guards motioning everyone inside. "Come on, they're closing the yard until after lunch." Neal hopped up.

The Winchester brothers followed him to the rec room on their floor, where they secluded themselves in a corner away from the other inmates. "So we already did the research on this place and we have a good idea as to who the ghost is." Dean said once they where settled. "But we want to look around here and make sure – last time we snuck into a prison we got the wrong ghost."

"Yeah, we almost got screwed." Sam agreed. "We went in because we thought it was an inmate but it turned out to be the nurse." Neal grinned in amusement.

"Well unless you want to be pegged for troublemakers, I suggest you not snoop around for a couple of days." Neal said. "If you get caught where you aren't supposed to be, then the guards will put you in solitary." He cautioned. "They aren't really nasty here, but they don't like it when new prisoners toe the line. You're on serious watch until you've settled in."

"How long we talking?" Dean asked. "Because we've got two weeks until the trial, at which we'll almost definitely be found guilty. We've got someone working on getting us out but we need to be ready to go before the trial just inc ase." Neal nodded.

"Give it a week, then. I can do some digging for you if you tell me what you're looking for." Neal offered. Sam and Dean nodded in unison.

"First I think we should learn as much about this place as possible." Sam noted. "You already told us about how the building is broken up but when can we expect to get the chance to dig around? When are free times?"

"And when are meal times?" Dean interrupted. Neal smirked.

"Lights come on at seven. Cafeteria opens for breakfast at seven thirty and closes again at nine, when the doors open for outside. Like I said before nine to eleven your outside – unless you have a darn good reason, the guards try to keep you out there, but most non-violent felons can get away with staying in the rec rooms or library if they don't want to be around the violent felons." Sam nodded. "Lunch is from eleven thirty to twelve thirty. Doors open again outside from one to four but you can choose to go out or stay in. The half hour between morning and lunch, and lunch and afternoon, you can choose to do whatever you want on your floor. Dinner is served from four to six. At six you're on lockdown on your floor. In your cell by eight. Lights out by ten."

"Pretty structured." Sam commented.

"Yeah. There's also a work program. Some inmates have jobs, usually in preparation for release." Neal added. "And once a week they offer group therapy sessions, usually on Saturdays after lunch." Dean pulled a face. "They aren't mandatory." Neal assured him.

"That's a relief."

"So it sounds like we'll be restricted to footwork in the afternoons." Sam mused. "We will need to talk to the inmates housed on the sixth floor at some point." Neal nodded.

"We can do that during outdoor rec." He said. "Easiest to find people because everyone's in one yard or the other. I know a few people from that floor…" Neal trailed off, mentally tallying names of people who might be helpful but wouldn't be overtly curious about being questioned. "Visiting hours are by request only and scheduled in advance." He finally added.

"We won't need anything from anybody on the outside." Dean commented. "We just need to figure out who the ghost is so we can take care of him when we get out – unless we have to sneak around and burn something here." He added. Neal shrugged.

"I never got the chance to ask before – are there other hunters out there? It isn't just the two of you, right?"

"Not just us. There aren't MANY hunters, unfortunately, but there are a few scattered about." Sam replied. "One is a good friend of ours, Bobby Singer. He actually runs a home base sort of thing from his salvage yard in Sioux Falls. When hunters need to impersonate officials, we give them one of his aliases." Sam said with a grin. "So when they call our 'superior' to verify us it's actually Bobby. He changes the aliases regularly. "

"Now THAT is an awesome con!" Neal said with a wide grin. A buzzer sounded and Neal tilted his head. "That would be the lunch bell. And my cue to head to the visitation rooms." Sam cocked an eyebrow.

"Visitor?"

"Yeah, my girlfriend. Kate." Neal said proudly. "She visits every Saturday." He didn't miss the pained look on Sam's face and wondered if the young hunter had a girlfriend of his own. Dean merely grinned and clapped him on the shoulder.

"You go visit with your girl. We're gonna mingle with the locals. Meet up with you later, yeah?" Neal nodded and the brothers joined the mass of inmates heading to the lunch room. When they cleared out he stood up and a guard escorted him to the visitation room.

He smiled at Kate through the glass as he sat down. When the guard moved away he jabbed at the intercom button. "Hey."

"Hey back." Kate smiled softly.

"How are things?" Neal asked with a smile. "Am I missing anything good?"

"Things are slow. Much slower without you around." She replied. "I miss you. I can't wait for you to be out."

"Two more years." Neal promised. "Maybe less. Then we'll take a trip to Italy for a while until things cool off here. Maybe we can bring Haversham with us." He joked with a grin. She smiled back. "You'll never guess who's here with me."

"A business associate?" Kate questioned curiously.

"Nah. The Winchesters. Remember I told you about them?" Kate's hand automatically went up to grab at the protection charm Neal had been given when he met the brothers. Peter had been kind enough to pass it on to Kate for him. "They're here, investigating a ghost of all things."

"Ghosts are real?" Kate shook her head. "You'll be safe, right?" She asked, putting her hand to the glass. Neal brought his own hand up over hers.

"Always." He promised. "Besides, this thing hasn't hurt anyone or I'd have known about it. And they wouldn't be wiling to take their time." She nodded. "Hey, you're doing okay right?" He finally asked. "If you need money…."

"I'm set for a while, Neal." Kate said. "Thank you."

"I couldn't let them take me in without making sure you where cared for." Neal grinned. He inched his fingers under the glass barrier so their fingertips could touch. "Be careful."

"Always." The guard appeared and cleared his throat. "I'll see you next week?" Neal nodded unhappily as she stood up. "I left your things with another guard. Agent Burke's birthday is coming up, right? Maybe you and the Winchesters can send him a birthday card." She said with a wink. Neal laughed and watched her walk away.

"Come on Caffrey." Neal let the guard lead him out of the area and he was given a bag of supplies as soon as he cleared the door. He retreated to his cell to check out what she'd brought him – the usual drawing pad, some pencils, and a few slabs of charcoal. Tucked away in the pad of paper was a set of plastic calligraphy pens and he grinned. When he first got there they wouldn't let him have anything that could resemble a weapon but now they where lowering their guard, so to speak. Calligraphy pens weren't a common presence, though, and when he had them a guard would check them over regularly to make sure he wasn't selling them or altering them into a weapon.

He opened the new pad to the third page and cracked open the slabs of charcoal. Within minutes he was furiously at work doing a sketch of the Winchester brothers. He wanted to draw them as he remembered them back at that tiny prison, fighting off demons, but guns and weapons where not looked on kindly in here even as pictures. So he drew them as he saw them out in the yard – Dean scamming the inmates of their cigarettes and Sam watching on in amusement.

"That looks really good." Neal glanced up some time later to find Sam in the doorway of his cell. "And kind of messy." Neal glanced at his blackened hands and figured he must have charcoal smudged just about everywhere.

"Yeah, charcoal is pretty messy. But it gives you a ton of freedom to work out different shades. It can give life to a drawing easier than pencils." Neal set his pad down, the sketch mostly completed. He rubbed at his cheek with a finger, leaving behind a big black stain, and grinned. "Where's Dean?"

"Chatting up some girl in the rec room." Sam shrugged. "How'd the visit with your girl go?" Neal motioned and Sam took a seat.

"Not bad. She keeps me well stocked with my stuff." Neal admitted. "I go through one of these things a week." He motioned to the pad of paper. "I keep most of them with me, but some I give back to her." Sam glanced at the cardboard bin of used sketch pads curiously. "You can look at them." Neal offered. "I don't mind."

"If you're sure…" Sam fished the bin out and began to leaf through the pads. "These are really, really good." Sam said as he flipped through them. "Why didn't you go pro with this if you're this good?"

"It was never an option for me growing up." Neal shrugged. "You could almost say that I followed in the family business, like you and Dean." Sam nodded knowingly and froze on a picture of Kate.

"She's beautiful." He said softly. "Is this Kate?" Neal nodded.

"I met her in college." Neal said softly. "We went to Italy together for a while." Sam smiled. "Do you have a girlfriend?" Sam's eyes hardened a bit and for a while Neal thought he wasn't going to answer. But he did.

"I did. Jessica. I took a break from hunting and went to Stanford on a scholarship. I met her there." Neal tilted his head. "The demon that killed my mom," He paused. "The reason dad started hunting to begin with. It killed her, too." Neal frowned. "Set our apartment on fire. I don't have anything left of her." Sam sighed and replaced the bin of sketches. Neal hesitantly made him an offer.

"I could draw her for you, if you want to tell me what she looked like." Sam blinked and stared at him in surprise. "Even with very little detail I can usually do a sketch of a person." Eventually Sam nodded and Neal flipped to a fresh sheet of paper. He picked up his charcoal and Sam slowly began to speak.

The first week passed by in a blur of similarity. Wake up, eat, chat with the Winchesters, eat again, do some foot work or research with the Winchesters, eat some more, work out, shower, sleep, repeat. The only difference between this blur and the blur of his life before was that now he had the Winchester brothers to keep him company.

It wasn't until near the end of the first week that Neal finally got the brothers to the sixth floor, though, under the pretense of visiting one of the other inmates to give him a picture Neal had drawn. It was a very brief visit and then they where able to slip away to investigate the floor.

"So what's that?" Neal asked as they tiptoed around the sixth floor pretending to just be exploring and getting no more than a few curious glances for their troubles. Dean had what looked like a busted walkman in his hand. How he got it in Neal would have to grill out of him later.

"It's a home made EMF detector." Dean replied. "Ghosts give of waves of energy and this thing can read them."

"Electrical appliances can also give off the same energy, though." Sam chimed in. "It's when you get a spike when you're no where near anything that can be causing it that you might have paranormal activity happening." Neal nodded in understanding and jumped as the thing lit up like a christmas tree. He tucked himself behind Sam as they followed the flashing lights, stopping and changing direction every so often when they went out. Eventually they where led to a door that was barred off with a simple lock.

"Hm. Seems to lead right to here." Dean mumbled. "We'll have to figure out where this leads to and if anything happened back there." He turned off and pocketed the EMF meter. "This means you're up, Geek Boy." He said to Sam. "Time to hit the computers."

"Right." Neal didn't bother telling them that the computers where monitored because he figured they would take precautions to make sure no one knew what they where up to. He followed the pair back up to their floor where Sam split off to research, Dean went to the weight room, and Neal settled in the rec room to sketch.

After he finished the drawing he made of Jessica, Dean had hounded him to draw their father – John Winchester. Not that Dean really had to hound him, Neal always enjoyed challenging himself and didn't mind drawing for the brothers at all. Especially considering they where there to hunt down something that could very easily kill him.

He put the finishing touches on the copy of John that he made for himself before flipping to a new page. Instead of starting another portrait or landscape he flipped the pad sideways and began to sketch out the beginnings of a birthday card – and then a Christmas card because he could. Kate was right, Peter Burke's birthday WAS coming up (and Christmas wasn't that far off either). He couldn't break the tradition of sending the agent a card on these days, now could he?

Later that night while everyone else was asleep, Neal watched Sam and Dean as they settled into a restless slumber. Neither of the brothers had slept well since they'd gotten there and Neal couldn't help but wonder what had happened to them since their last meeting.

He finally began to doze off around midnight and was just about out for the count when he heard a muffled yelp that woke him right up. Thinking it could be the ghost, he sat up and looked around. Only to stare in shock at the man standing in Sam and Dean's cell, back half turned on Neal. He could barely make out the man's face.

"Dammit, Cas!" Dean cursed just loud enough for Neal to hear. Then there was a strange popping sound and suddenly Neal couldn't hear Dean anymore. He crept out of bed and peered out, thanking god that he could read lips. "What the hell are you doing here?" Dean asked.

"I came because I need your help." The man said.

"We're a little busy, here." Sam replied. "In case you couldn't tell." Neal just knew there was sarcasm in that.

"One of the seals is being threatened. We need you to stop it from opening." Sam and Dean exchanged looks. "I can get you out of here but we need to…"

"We can't just eave the job, Cas." Dean replied. "We're almost done – we know who we're after, we think, so we should be out next week." The newcomer, Cas, narrowed his eyes. "We can't just let you zap us out of here – that would cause pure chaos."

"Dean's right." Sam spoke. "If you just take us then we'll be back where we where when we where under scrutiny from Henrickson." Cas tilted his head. "Right now we have a fairly clean slate – we can't add escape to that. We shouldn't. We have a lawyer on our side who will help us get away during the transfer to court and then she'll be able to get us off on the fraud charges."

"You do realize what it means if the seals continue to break." Cas finally said. Neal saw both boys sigh.

"Well if we don't do our best to protect this world in the meantime then there won't be one to save if the seals go kaput." Dean said smartly. Neal cocked his eyebrow.

"Very well. I suppose there is time for you to…" Suddenly he froze. Neal gulped as ice blue eyes turned to lock directly on him. He gave a nervous but cheeky grin and waved. Then it was his turn to yelp as the guy disappeared from the other cell and re-appeared in his, right in front of him. He quickly backpedaled away from the guy, eyes wide.

"Cas!" He could hear Dean hiss. He ducked around the outstretched hand, surprising the guy, and beat a hasty retreat to his bed where he held up his sketchpad to ward the guy off.

"Cas, don't!"

"Why?" Cas asked in a hard voice, loud enough for the sentry down the hall to have had to heard him. Neal winced.

"Keep your voice down!" Dean hissed.

"No one can hear us." Cas said in a calm tone. "I made sure of it." Neal glanced pleadingly over at Sam and Dean as this Cas moved closer to him, trapping him, and willed them to get this creepy guy out of his cell. His fingers twitched and his hands shot out to push the guy back a step. He didn't budge, but Neal felt his fingers brush against a thick roll. He instinctively grabbed it and pulled back.

"Thank God for small favors, I guess." Dean muttered. "Cas back off, you're scaring the poor guy." Neal breathed a sigh of relief as Cas finally took a step back from his bed. He slipped the pilfered roll into his pocket.

"Who is he?" Neal was very uncomfortable under the stare of this guy.

"He's a friend." Sam said with a grin. "He knows about us. He's helping us hunt the ghost here, and he was with us back in Colorado."

"But he is a criminal, is he not?" Now the guy seemed confused and Neal shot the brothers a look. "I thought you did not like criminals." Now he sounded the tiniest bit confused.

"We don't. Well, most of the time." Dean said. "Neal isn't a violent person. He's in for… what was it again Neal?"

"Bond forgery." Neal muttered. Cas tilted his head, once again studying him. His hackles popped up but not in an oh-my-god-your-in-danger kind of way. More of a why-is-this-creepy-dude-leering-at-you kind of way.

"Right. Bond forgery. Bad stuff sure, stealing money, but not evil like killing someone." Dean said brightly. "Right?" Cas didn't respond. "Look, just leave the poor guy be. He's cool. We'll let you know when we're out of here and we'll help you with your seal problem."

"Very well." There was a fluttering – was that wings? – and the guy was gone. Neal felt his jaw drop and he turned to Sam and Dean.

"We'll tell you later." Sam signed. Neal nodded shakily. "You okay?" Neal just shot him the sign for 'peachy' and Dean stifled a chuckle. "We'll talk after breakfast." Sam repeated. Neal nodded and the brothers shuffled back into their beds.

The next morning at breakfast Neal immediately grilled them, fingering the roll of what turned out to be twenties and wondering if he should return it. "Who was that? And how did he get in and out of here like that?" Dean merely grunted into his breakfast so Sam began to explain.

"That was Castiel." He said. "He's, well, a lot has happened since we met you in Colorado. Have you ever heard of a crossroads demon?" Neal shook his head. "They're basically demons with the power to make deals with mortals. If someone wants something then they barter their soul for what it is they want." Neal blinked. "Back before we met you I we got in a situation that, well, ended up with me dead."

"You died?" Neal asked in surprise.

"Long story." Sam said wryly. "Dean made a deal with a crossroads demon to bring me back. He got a… a year to live." Neal turned to stare at Dean, who purposely wouldn't look at him. "When you met us in Colorado he had six months left."

"That was…"

"Yeah, his time was up. Dean was in hell for a few months." Sam sad sadly. "I was in a bad place. Still am. But Castiel was the one to pull Dean out – he's an Angel." Neal froze mid-bite and cue the guilt that came from pickpocketing an Angel. "And now we're helping him stop Lilith – the demon from Colorado that killed everybody after the fact and the demon that held Dean's contract – from breaking magical seal."

"Apparently if the seals are broken, Lucifer will rise." Dean finished. "And we'll all be screwed." Neal swallowed thickly.

"Yikes." He finally said.

"But right now we need to focus on this case." Dean said as he finished his breakfast. "We've got another six days before we're out of here, so we need to figure out what's behind that door and if anybody died down there." Sam nodded. "That way when we get out of here we can find and burn the bones."

"I'll head to the computers later on today, then." Sam decided.

"And I'll grill some of the inmates down in the rec yard before I whoop their asses." Dean grinned. Neal glanced between the pair, wondering what he could do to help. His fate was decided for him when one of the guards approached them and clapped him on the shoulder.

"You've got a visitor." Neal blinked in surprise. Kate wasn't due until tomorrow.

"One second." He said. The guard nodded and turned. Neal grinned sheepishly and showed the Winchesters the money he'd pilfered. "You should probably return this to your friend." Dean and Sam just stared at him.

"Dude, you totally picked an Angel's pocket!" Dean said in quiet awe. "How did you do that?"

"Lots of practice. It's a bad habit." Neal shrugged. "Happens more when I'm stressed."

"Keep it for now." Sam said quietly. "You probably have more experience hiding something like that from the guards and other inmates. We'll get it from you later, or you can give it back to Castiel yourself if he shows up between now and then." Neal nodded.

"Come on, Caffrey, we don't have all day." Neal nodded and gave the Winchesters a little wave before following the guard. Surprisingly they wound up not in the family/friend visitation room but to one of the interrogation rooms. He frowned in confusion as he was brought in and almost grinned when he saw a familiar figure leaning against the far wall.

"Peter!" He greeted cheerfully. "To what do I owe this surprise visit? Not that I'm not happy to see you…"

"What are you up to?" Burke asked, interrupting him and wasting no time. "The warden called and said you started hanging out with two new inmates. He asked me if he should have anything to worry about considering you don't hang out with anyone else." Neal blinked. "Are you planning something?"

"Why Peter, I didn't know you cared that much about me!" He grinned at Burke's annoyance. "I mean, keeping tabs on me…."

"Caffrey." Neal trailed off at Burke's warning tone.

"I'm surprised you didn't just look up the inmates yourself." Neal said smartly. "Would have saved you a trip." Burke merely gave him a look. "It's Sam and Dean."

"Winchester?" Neal nodded. "They didn't strike me as stupid enough to get caught again." He mumbled.

"They let themselves get caught." Neal revealed. "Apparently the sixth floor is haunted." Burke's eyebrows went up in surprise. "Hey, you could probably help them out!" Neal said happily. "In case Sam can't get the info they need." Burke sighed.

"And what do they need?"

"To know if anyone died on the sixth floor, behind the locked doors specifically." Burke frowned a bit before sighing.

"A guard was killed back there by one of the inmates." He eventually said. "It was a big thing about ten, fifteen years ago. They shut the wing down, don't know why though." Neal's eyes widened. "I don't know his name but I bet they could find it easily enough. Wait a minute, did you just say Sam could find this out on the computers?" Neal gulped.

"Ah, he didn't say how." Burke sighed. "It okay if I, uh, go tell them?" Burke nodded slowly and after a quick parting grin, Neal fled. He found Dean in the rec yard and pulled him away from the other inmates. "I've got it!"

"Got what?" Dean asked. "I almost had them talking to me!"

"My visitor was Burke." Neal said in excitement. "The warden was suspicious about us hanging out and called him in. When he heard it was you he was only too willing to help out." Neal grinned.

"Okay. And?"

"Guard got killed in that ward by one of the inmates fifteen years or so back." Neal repeated.

"They must have shut the ward down because of his vengeful spirit – and it took till now for him to get the strength to expand to the other wards." Dean mused. "That's great!" He said happily. "Now we just need to find a name and figure out where he's buried." Neal nodded and beamed.

When the Winchesters where gathered for transport to the courthouse, Neal watched them from the rec room windows longingly. He had another year and a half or so (more if he didn't make parole early) before he would be free to leave the prison and he stamped out the jealousy he felt at the brothers.

He really didn't envy them and wouldn't want to be in their shoes, though. Ghost and demon hunting just didn't seem like something he would be good at, and dealing with Angels and Lucifer just gave him the shivers. He turned and made his way back to his cell. Once inside he picked up his sketch pad and began to draw.

It was a short while later when the lights flickered and he felt the temperature drop dramatically. When he glanced up he shivered. "If the lights flicker and you get really cold, be careful." Dean had said. "That's how you know a ghost is nearby. And if you don't get cold then the lights could be flickering due to bad wiring or a demon."

"Crap." Neal said. Before he could leave the cell he was pushed backwards and he let out an 'oopmh' of surprise. A figure materialized above him and he felt icy hands grip his throat. "Gyahh!" He struggled but couldn't get the ghost to let go. He felt his head begin to spin as his blood turned to ice. Just as his vision started to go black the ghost disappeared.

He sucked in huge breaths of air, choking a bit. As his vision cleared he saw the brunette Angel, Castiel, peering down at him. He wheezed in surprise. A hand came out and he couldn't hold back the flinch as two fingers rested on his forehead. Almost immediately his breathing because easier and he felt warmer. The hand withdrew and Neal sat up shakily.

"Thanks." Neal said shakily.

"Dean asked me to check on you." Neal would have to have Burke send the Winchesters a thank you card. "That spirit was angry."

"Yeah." Neal climbed to his feet and when he was upright he realized that the Angel was his height. He hadn't noticed before, considering how creeped out the guy made him feel. "It's going to be a long wait for them to get rid of this thing…" Neal muttered just as the lights flickered again. He let out a yelp as his sketchpad lifted up and flew straight at him, hitting him in the chest.

A dozen more yelps sounds throughout the floor as objects began to levitate. "I think it knows that it's time is up." Castiel said as Neal took cover behind him. "This entity is rather powerful considering it couldn't move into the main area until recently."

"Maybe it just didn't want to." Neal said, safe behind the angel. "Can't you do something? Without, you know, showing yourself to the other inmates or the guards?"

"Unfortunately I cannot." Castiel admitted. "I am very limited in what I can do to deal with spirits and entities. IF it where to show itself I could contain it, but I doubt it will now that it knows I am here." Neal sighed.

"So we just hunker down and wait for Sam and Dean." There was a loud bang and the lights went out. Castiel was silent, but nothing else came hurtling towards them. "Ah, by the way…. Sorry about the last time we met."

"What?" Castiel tilted his head and Neal dug around under the bed frame to find the roll of money. He offered it to Castiel with a sheepish grin.

"When I get nervous, I tend to pick pockets." Castiel accepted the roll of money with a frown. "Bad habit. You shouldn't keep rolls of money like that in your pocket, anyway."

"I will try to remember that." The money was tucked away. There was a screeching thump and a groan, and an inmate went flying by. Literally. Neal winced. Then the hair of the back of his neck stood up and a mist floated by the cell. More bangs and thumps. Neal sighed and hunkered down behind the Angel.

"This is going to be a long night."

END


	3. Free to Be You and Me

_Free to Be (You and Me)_

Rating: 15+

Parings: mention of Neal/Kate

Warnings: some blood, language, and violence

Summary: Neal Caffrey is out of prison and working for the FBI, when Sam Winchester shows up in NYC. But where's Dean? Crossover with Supernatural.

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own Supernatural, White Collar, or any of the characters associated with either show.

Authors Note:

Follows Jus in Bello and NYC Prison Blues

Mid-Season One White Collar

Season Five of Supernatural – after Lucifer rises and when the boys are taking a break from one another.

Again, timelines are a bit different. I know almost for a fact that a year and a half to two years did NOT pass between Dean's resurrection and Lucifer's rising (and the boys' split.) But for the sake of my one-shot series' we'll say it has.

MAJOR THANKS to all my followers and reviewers!

Word Count: 7,295

Pages: 24

Neal frowned unhappily as he stared at the neatly pressed pant leg that hid his tracking anklet, barely paying attention to where he was going as he walked down the crowed city sidewalks.

Adrian Tulane, the only suspect that had the means and motive to steal a rare pink diamond AND forge it, had an alibi (which Peter assured him was going to be thoroughly checked) for the time when the diamond was stolen. Now OPR – in particular, a shifty agent named Garret Fowler – had their eyes on him as the suspect and had rather quickly dismissed Tulane.

Not that he really blamed them. He did have a history with theft and forgery, and in the past he would have jumped at the chance to steal the valuable diamond. But now he was, for the most part, on the 'right' side of the law. And he didn't have the access to the tools needed to forge a pink diamond, let alone the freedom to plan and execute such a heist. Maybe if the place had been within his range...

He let out a sigh just as a tall and stocky figure bumped into his shoulder. Neal lifted his head to apologize to the person, hearing an echoing apology, and he froze in surprise. "Sam?" The familiar shaggy haired figure blinked at him.

"Neal?" They studied each other for a few minutes before shifting out of the way of the bustling public. "Wow. We meet again." Sam said with a tired grin, reaching out to accept Neal's greeting handshake.

"Yeah, we just seem to be running into each other all the time now." Neal agreed with a smile, glancing around curiously. "Where's Dean?" He didn't miss Sam's pained look.

"Ah, long story." Sam hedged. Neal tilted his head.

"Please don't tell me you're on a case here." He eventually begged. "I so don't need a ghost or a demon showing up right now." Sam actually grinned in amusement and shook his shaggy head.

"You're in luck: no case. I'm here on a vacation, of sorts." Sam revealed. Neal nodded knowingly, noting to himself that Sam said 'I' and not 'we'. Which meant that Dean very likely wasn't with him. "What about you? I thought that once you where out of prison you'd be long gone from the city. You mentioned visiting Italy and Paris."

"Ah, well, that's sort of a long story too." Neal said. Sam nodded with a wry grin, eyes alight with understanding. "Hey, do you want to join me for dinner?" Neal asked curiously. "We can get take out and hang at my apartment – I want to know what you've been up to."

"All right." Sam agreed. "Lead the way."

**- The Apartment**

Sam was quite obviously impressed as Neal led him into his suite at June's manor – Neal was still quite impressed himself, truth be told. It was a steal, quite literally, for someone fresh out of prison and June was such a wonderful landlady.

"What kind of take out do you want?" Neal asked, digging into the menu drawer as Sam settled on the couch. "We can get Thai, Chinese…. Or pizza, KFC, fast food…." He made a face at the last few suggestions but felt compelled to throw them out. Not everyone he invited over enjoyed foreign cuisine.

"Chinese sounds good." Sam said. Neal nodded happily and quickly phoned to place the order, which he was assured would be at his door in thirty minutes or less. He replaced the menus and settled on the chair across from the youngest Winchester. "Wow, just out of prison and you get this." Sam eventually mumbled.

"I got lucky. My first place of residence was a flea-bitten motel room with a dog that hogged the bed." Neal joked. Sam nodded knowingly. "I ran into June at the thrift store where she was donating her late husbands clothing. We hit it off." Neal shrugged. "She offered the room at the same rate as my limit. I was told if I could find something better for the same price, to go for it."

"You have a limit?" Sam asked in partial amusement. Neal grinned. "Is this a part of that long story?" He asked.

"Yeah." Neal said. Then he lifted his left pant leg to reveal the tracker and Sam's eyebrows shot up.

"Is that an ankle tracker? What the hell did you do?" Sam asked in curious surprise.

"With three months left on my sentence, I sort of broke out." Neal said. "Well, more like walked out." He amended with a grin and Sam shot him a surprised and incredulous look. "My girlfriend, Kate, is in trouble." He explained. "She tried to break up with me while I was in prison so I broke out to see why – I just couldn't believe that she would end things like she did." Sam nodded.

"How did you manage to just walk out of a high security prison?" Sam asked. Neal grinned.

"It wasn't too hard. I kept to myself, kept out of trouble, the whole time so eventually no one really noticed me. I grew a beard over the course of two months or so then I got a hold of a uniform. I shaved, put on the uniform, and walked right out like I had the right to." Sam merely shook his head in amusement.

"A beard, of all things, managed to fool law enforcement." Neal nodded proudly. "Unbelievable."

"Well Peter caught me – again – later that same day." Neal admitted reluctantly.

"Peter, as in Peter Burke? The FBI guy that had you in custody in Colorado?" Sam asked. Neal nodded.

"Yeah. He lives here, in the city. When I broke out they brought him in off of an ongoing case to find me." Neal explained. "I managed to talk him into a deal – I would have gone back for another four years or more – but I convinced him that I could help him catch the Dutchman, some forger he'd been after almost as long as he had been after me." Neal said. "If he got me out on a work release I would be free to find Kate - and help him."

"And he fell for it?" Sam asked. Neal nodded.

"Hook, line, and sinker." Neal confirmed. "He doesn't know that I'm looking for Kate but as long as I play by his rules when I'm with him…." Neal shrugged. Sum hummed in thought. A knock on the door interrupted them and Neal got up to retrieve the take-out, tipping the delivery driver for the fast delivery. As they started to eat, Neal continued. "That's basically it in a nutshell."

"You've been busy." Sam commented as he fished for the carton of spicy chicken.

"What about you? What's been going on with you, and why isn't Dean with you?" Neal asked lightly. Sam frowned and stopped eating.

"A lot has happened on the supernatural front since we ganked that ghost." Sam finally said. "Remember we where after Lilith to stop Lucifer from rising?" Neal thought back to that conversation and nodded. "Well, we failed." Neal blinked. "Oh, I killed Lilith all right but it turned out that her death was the final seal. I killed her, which broke the seal and let Lucifer rise." Neal set his carton of rice down at that proclamation.

"How?" He asked quietly.

"I was tricked." Neal tilted his head. "By a demon named Ruby. She had been… sort of helpful to me when Dean was in the pit, and she led me astray. Turned out she was on Lucifer's side all along. She was hyping me up for the final showdown, driving a wedge between me and Dean." Sam said bitterly.

"And I thought my life sucked." Neal said lightly. "Man, I'm sorry." Sam smiled sadly.

"So now Dean and I are at odds and I just, took off. He doesn't trust me and I can't… I couldn't stick around with that hanging over us. And I don't want him to be put in danger and I don't want us to break further apart – I figured we might be better off separate for a while."

"You're welcome to stay here with me until you figure out what you want to do." Neal offered. "Don't think you would be comfortable on the couch but we can figure out something else." Sam nodded after a few minutes and they returned to eating their now-cold chicken, rice, and noodles.

"So what are you working on?" Sam asked after a few minutes of silence. "You said you work with Burke and the FBI now?"

"Yeah. I do consulting work – and occasionally go under cover." Neal said. "Right now we're investigating the theft of a rare pink diamond." Neal explained with a grin. "Unfortunately, even though I didn't so it, I'm a suspect in this one." Sam tilted his head and frowned. "Someone wiped the data from my anklet the other night, thus erasing my alibi, so now I'm suspect." Sam hummed. "I think that OPR – specifically a guy named Fowler – is behind it."

"OPR?" Sam asked.

"Office of Professional Responsibility." Neal said. "Sort of like the internal affairs division." Sam nodded in understanding. "This one guy, Fowler, is just a little too involved. He might even be the one who has Kate. He's got the pull and he's in the position for it. He used to be in Violent Crimes, too, and his files are sealed."

"Very suspicious… It sounds like he's a good candidate then." Sam agreed. "So what are you going to do?"

"Mozzie, a close friend, is coming over soon and we're going to try to think of a plan in case they try to arrest me before we can figure out how to nail Tulane – the original suspect." Neal revealed. "Which I'm sure Fowler will try. Then we'll go from there. I'm hoping Peter won't let that happen but hey, got to be prepared." There was a disbelieving snort from the other side of the closed door, which made Sam jump, and Neal rolled his eyes as Mozzie slipped inside.

"He's a suit – you can't trust a suit. Ever." The balding little man studied Sam intently. "Who are you?" Sam put his carton of noodles down.

"Sam Winchester." Sam introduced himself. Mozzie's eyebrows shot up in recognition of the name. "You must be Mozzie?"

"One of the infamous Winchester brothers." Mozzie mused. "Hunter. Not Fed. Well, Neal, your taste in company has improved." Neal rolled his eyes as Mozzie claimed the other chair and crossed his ankles. "You're not here on some sort of case, are you?"

"No." Sam grinned. "Neal asked the same thing when we met on the street earlier." Mozzie grunted. "Uh, so what can I do to help with this case?" Neal shot Mozzie a look before the other con could ask the question he was clearly dying to ask – namely why Sam was there to begin with – and Mozzie tilted his head in thought.

"Well we need a plan for Neal. If I'm right, then Fowler is going to arrest him sooner or later. Probably sooner rather than later." Mozzie commented.

"We can't prove that the other suspect's alibi is fake." Neal commented. "Not yet, anyway."

"So any ideas?" They sat in companionable silence until Sam's face lit up a bit and he leaned forward to start to speak.

**- The Bureau**

Neal was nervous. Hughes, Peter's boss, was not happy about their lack of progress on the case and was clearly distrustful of Neal. Not quite condemning but definitely suspicious. Peter, also tense, was pacing as he thought. "Even if we can't figure out how he stole the diamond, we could always try to get Tulane when he tries to fence it." Neal suggested.

"He won't, though, if he's smart." Peter argued. "It's too hot right now."

"Well there are various underground and overseas fencing opportunities – he could go for one of those." Neal pointed out. "Any luck on his alibi?"

"We're getting the run around, for some reason." Peter frowned, glancing at Hughes. The man shrugged, not pleased by the news. "It'll be a few days before we can get confirmation on whether or not it's reliable." Jones slid into the room, a pensive look on his face. Neal saw why as, seconds later, Fowler entered with a smug grin. Neal figured his day was about to go from bad to worse, and he was right.

"Neal Caffrey, you're under arrest." The agent said. Neal blinked.

"What?" He asked, thinking quickly that Fowler was slightly ahead of their schedule – they hadn't expected this for another day at least.

"We found the initials NC micro printed on the fake diamond. They match the initials on the bonds you forged." Fowler said smugly. "Thanks to Agent Burke's genius work." Neal shot Peter a betrayed look. "Now…"

"Wait." Peter stepped in. "He's my responsibility." Neal didn't resist as Peter cuffed him and tucked his coat over his hands to hide the cuffs – not that the rest of the building wouldn't guess what was going on. "Neal, you have the right to remain silent." Neal scowled.

"Peter, I didn't…"

"Please, remain silent." Neal shut up with a frown, but held his head high as Peter finished reading him his rights. They marched him quickly through the bullpen, past many curious stares, and out to a waiting car. He didn't meet anyone's eyes as he was escorted to one of the smaller prisons used to house people under investigation but not yet convicted.

He didn't make any fuss when his anklet was removed at the door, or when the over-enthusiastic guard pulled him off to a side room for a medical examination and pat down, complete with cavity search. He was issued a single orange jumpsuit, which he donned with a grimace, then was brought back to the front.

"I want my lawyer." He stated clearly as he was handed standard prison issue intake gear – a pillow, a blanket, and some toiletries. "His card is in my wallet." Thankfully he and Sam had removed all of his fake IDs, debit cards, the previous night in preparation for his arrest. He shot Peter one last look before he was marched to his cell and locked inside for the rest of the evening and night.

**- Prison Meeting Room**

The next morning Neal tried to ignore the guard's enthusiastic pat down – it could almost be considered a grope, really - and met Peter's gaze head on. He stepped into the meeting room and sat down as the guard stepped out. "You let me down, Neal." Peter said once Neal was seated.

"I let you down?" Neal asked incredulously. "You told Fowler to look for my initials." He reminded the agent.

"No, I didn't. I just looked at your bonds under a polarized light. You told me to do that, remember? And, yeah, you signed 'em. Fowler must have noticed that I requested that done and copied me to see if you'd done the same with the fake diamond." Neal grimaced.

"You really think I'd be stupid enough to do that again? With something far more intricate and valuable than bonds?" Neal shook his head.

"I guess you were." Peter shot back. "Look: The thief is associated with law enforcement, your anklet was tampered with, you have no alibi and your initials are on the diamond. What am I supposed to think!?" Neal had to admit that Peter had a point.

"I was set up." He finally said.

"By who?"

"I'm working on that." Peter made a face but Neal was pleased to see that the agent was at least beginning to believe him.

"You're not helping things." Peter finally informed him. Neal gave a disheartened shrug as the guard suddenly appeared again.

"Agent Burke?"

"What?" Neal gave Mozzie a half grin as the man followed the guard into the meeting room.

"His lawyer's here." Neal wished he had a camera to record Peter's incredulous expression when he saw Mozzie in his suit, tie, and holding a briefcase.

"He's the lawyer?" Mozzie merely tilted his head and replied coolly:

"You can check my University of Phoenix online degree. Go cardinals." Peter's face twisted a bit. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to speak to my client. Alone."

"I didn't let you down." Neal said softly as Peter reluctantly walked away. Peter shot him a look before disappearing and Neal turned to Mozzie. "All right, any problems?" He asked as the short man sat down.

"None. This was genius." Mozzie exclaimed. "I don't know why we didn't think of this earlier. For a hunter Sam is nothing short of Einstein." Neal's lips quirked – he had known that Mozzie and Sam would get along. "The judge actually raised his voice to the prosecutor: open discovery. Turn over every document the government has on Caffrey. They're sending a truck!"

"All right, did you follow Fowler?"

"Not me: Sam. While I dug up information on the judge. Once the request went through, Sam said Fowler made a pit stop at a local dumpster. He shredded these." Mozzie pulled a bag of thin paper scraps out of his briefcase and handed them to Neal.

"Perfect. Thank you, Moz. This is perfect." Neal said. "So, information on the judge?"

"Mm-hm." Mozzie handed over a wad of papers that Neal quickly glanced through. His eyes caught on something useful and a plan began to form – one that would get him OUT of prison so he could talk to Peter without anyone overhearing them.

"He's got a private office not connected to the federal building on Mott Street. Moz, I need you to liquidate some assets. I need money and I need you to talk to Sam." He said with a grin.

"Okay, but why?"

"I want you to buy a bakery." Mozzie gave him an incredulous look.

"A bakery?" Neal nodded and scribbled down the address to the bakery right under the judge's chamber.

"This bakery." Mozzie, the genius that he was, almost immediately tuned into his plan and let out an amused chuckle.

"Understood." And then Mozzie was gone and Neal was brought back to his cell, where he spent the next several days piecing together the shredded scraps Sam collected from the dumpster.

**- Prison Meeting Room (A few days later)**

Neal was surprised when Sam showed up with Mozzie the day before he was due in the judge's chambers. "How did you get in?" He asked the hunter in surprise.

"He's my assistant, I'll have you know." Mozzie said imperiously. "You know, high profile case and all that. I need _someone_ to help me out with all this paper work." Neal grinned as Sam folded his long legs under the table. "Figured you would want him here for this." Mozzie eventually said.

"Yeah." Neal agreed.

"Never thought I'd willingly walk into another prison." Sam commented as they leaned their heads together at an angle where the cameras wouldn't be able to see their lips and their voices too low for the guards or cameras to pick up on. "Mozzie told me about your plan, and I have to say it's pretty good."

"Just as ingenious as yours." Neal commented with a grin. "Now, the bakery?"

"Done." Mozzie said. "You are now the proud owner of The Greatest Cake." Neal snorted at the name.

"And the construction?" He asked.

"Finished." Sam reported.

"How's the air conditioning in the judge's office?" Sam grinned in amusement.

"Hmm, broke down this morning." Mozzie replied deviously. "Won't be up for a few days, at least. Too bad for the judge."

"And the van?"

"Set up, ready, and waiting." Sam said. "Driver is also ready and waiting."

"All right." Neal said as he pulled out the papers he pieced together. "Sam I need you to hold onto these." He handed them over and Sam shuffled through them, eyes wide.

"Illegal phone tap, or some sort of bug." He commented lowly. "I really hate the feds some times." Mozzie nodded in agreement. "What do you want me to do with them?"

"Just hold onto them. When we meet up at Peter's house we can show them to him. He'll be mad enough about the bug to believe that Fowler's behind it all." Sam nodded and the papers where tucked neatly into his briefcase. "So are we ready? Then let's go to court."

**- Judge's Chambers**

Neal shifted a bit as Judge Hickman shuffled through some papers. "Bailiff," The man finally said. "Would you open a window?" A slight breeze finally came in and Neal grinned as the judge sighed in slight relief. "Oh, the heat is stifling in here isn't it? Unfortunately, the air conditioning is not working today." Neal nodded in agreement and Hickman thanked the bailiff and told him to wait outside. "Per your request, Mr. Caffrey, the chambers have been cleared.

"Thank you, your honor." Neal said politely.

"In accordance with that agreement, you are now prepared to give a full confession?" Neal nodded agreeably.

"I am, your honor." He paused. "I'll admit I've done a lot of things in my life that I'm not proud of." Then he thought about that. "No, no, that's not true, I'm proud of most of them." He amended to the judge's apparent annoyance. "But what I'm about to do today, this is going to be good." He grinned. "I confess…. that I did not steal the diamond necklace from Le Joyau Precieux." There was a moment of silence before the judge exploded.

"I cleared these chambers because you claimed because you claimed to have sensitive information vital to this case. If you didn't steal the diamond, then who did?" He asked angrily as Neal got to his feet and meandered to the open window.

"I'll let you know." He said as he grabbed the sill and with one smooth leap, cleared the window entirely.

"Bailiff!" He could hear the judge screaming as he landed on the bakery awning with a grunt. He shimmied to the edge, rolled onto his stomach, and then dropped down. People shot him surprised looks but it was the look on Peter Burke's face that made Neal feel the slightest bit guilty while also amusing him to no end. He gave the Fed a shrug then turned on his heel to the waiting van.

Once inside, the door closed, he dropped through the hole in the floor right into the sewer system. He caught himself on the ladder in time to pull the metal cover over the hole then crawled down to where Sam was waiting. "How'd it go?" The hunter asked as Neal brushed his hands off.

"It went great. But Peter was there and saw me as I hopped in the van. It won't take him long to figure out I wasn't there for longer than a few minutes so we have to move." Sam nodded and followed Neal through the tunnels. "You got the papers?"

"Yeah." Sam patted the messengers bag on his right hip. "Here's the burn phone." Neal quickly dialed the number he had memorized.

"Hey, Yvonne, is Elizabeth there?" There was a confused murmuring before Elizabeth Burke was on the line. "Hey, Elizabeth, sorry to bother you at work."

"Neal?" There was some muttering before she was back. "How did you get this number? Stupid question." Neal grinned. "You know that half the law enforcement in North America is looking for you right now, including my husband?"

"Yeah, well, he'll find me soon enough. I need your help." He heard her sigh. "I need to get into your house to talk to him – I've got a friend with me that Peter knows – and I have proof of my innocence." There was a sniffling and a sigh.

"Okay." Elizabeth finally said. "Where can we meet?"

"We'll be in the woods behind the house next door." Neal disconnected and led Sam to the Burke's place via the tunnels. They popped up one block away from the Burke's and Sam followed Neal around the back way, through a small strip of rather dense trees and bushes.

**-The Burke's House**

Elizabeth was waiting for them in the woods, hands on her hips. "There are agents staking the house out." She said as soon se she saw Neal. Neal noticed that she was unhappy but she didn't protest and he gave her a quick, comforting hug. "I don't know what you want me to do."

"Go offer them some coffee while we sneak in through the kitchen." Neal suggested.

"They won't have another unit to watch the back for a few hours at least." Sam said softly. "So we should be able to get in – and out later on – with no trouble." Elizabeth nodded shakily. Neal watched her sneak back to the house. Ten minutes later she was bringing a huge thermos of coffee and a plate of cookies out to the waiting car. Neal and Sam snuck easily in through the kitchen. Not long later she joined them.

"What's going on?"

"I'm being set up, Elizabeth." Neal said. "Sam and another friend are trying to help me out but I couldn't stay in prison and wait to see if they succeeded." She nodded shakily. "We've got evidence that I need to share with Peter, and he needs to know that Sam's in town and involved."

"I'm Sam, by the way." The young hunter said with a grin. Elizabeth returned the grin shakily.

"So what is this evidence?" Elizabeth finally asked.

"OPR, an agent named Fowler, is involved." Neal said. "I need you to bring me the phone that Peter uses the most." She nodded and disappeared. When she came back she was holding the living room cordless phone. Neal quickly took it and pulled it apart. Sure enough, there was a bug nestled in the body of the phone.

"Is that a…?

"Bug." Sam chimed in. She frowned and Neal could read the mix of fear and anger on her face. The phone was laid out on the dining room table. Just as Elizabeth was about to join them in the kitchen they heard a car door. She staying out in the dining room and Neal and Sam froze in the kitchen. They shared a glance as they heard the front door to the Burke's home open and close. "Hey." They heard Peter greet wearily.

"You okay?" Elizabeth finally asked.

"Still haven't found Neal. We got a detail outside."

"Yeah, I saw." Elizabeth didn't sound pleased – and she wasn't.

"As if he'd be careless enough to come here..." There was a brief pause. "Where do you think he did go, El?" They heard the masked incredulity and outrage in Peter's voice. Elizabeth must have given him a look to give them up. "Is he in the kitchen?" Peter asked calmly. "Neal!" The Fed hissed.

"That's my cue." Neal whispered. Sam shot him a good luck sign and Neal slid out of the kitchen to hide behind the wall pillar.

"Peter." He said cautiously.

"Of all the places you could run, you go to my wife!" The man hissed. Neal ducked his head a bit.

"You say that like it's a bad thing." He mused. "And she wasn't the first person, I had help…" But Peter wasn't listening, instead turning to Elizabeth.

"You helped him sneak in!" Elizabeth looked slightly guilty before frowning.

"Well, I wouldn't have had to sneak him in if there weren't those people sitting at our house." She pointed out angrily. It was like watching a tennis match, and Neal wasn't about to step into it.

"You lied to the FBI." Peter practically groaned.

"Honey, I did not lie to the FBI. There was just a lot of milk and cookies and pleasant, distracting conversation while Neal and Sam slipped around the back."

"I love this. You've turned my wife into an accomplice." Peter said helplessly, hanging his head back. "Wait, Neal and SAM? Sam who?"

"Give me one minute to explain." Neal interrupted.

"One minute." Elizabeth backed him up, slipping back into the kitchen with Sam.

"One minute." Peter finally said. "You explain what you were thinking when you did a free fall from the judge's chambers before I decide if I drag you back in chains."

"Okay, does that minute start now?" Neal asked. Peter shot him a look.

"Go."

"I told you I was set up. By someone very close to you. I couldn't tell you at first because I thought it was someone in the FBI. Now I'm positive it's Fowler." Neal said quickly.

"Fowler. That's not-"

"I've got fifty-two seconds left." Peter made a face. "I had a little free time on my hands the past few days, so I've been putting these together. They're documents Fowler shredded after Mozzie requested access to my files. Sam fished them out of a dumpster." Neal handed the glued together papers over.

"I made that call from my home." Peter finally said as he read over the transcripts from their conversation the morning of the diamond theft.

"Yeah."

"My God, they tapped my phone." Peter said in realization.

"No, they didn't tap it. That would require a court order. Look at your phone. It's a bug. Standard bureau issue, activates when you pick it up." Neal motioned to the phone he had dismantled earlier.

"They've been inside my house. They couldn't have had authorization. Not within the window of the crime and his suspicion of you." Peter said unhappily. He looked about ready to hit something.

"Exactly. Fowler is dirty. Peter, I have access to every file the FBI has on me. You had Jones process a request to look at my initials on the bond forgery. After you checked the forgery to see if I was telling the truth, one other person checked it too."

"Fowler."

"And then my initials just happened to show up on the pink diamond. He's using you to get to me." Neal paused. "My minute's up." He concluded. Peter sank into one of the dining room chairs, staring between the phone and the papers.

"A dirty agent." He muttered. "Unbelievable." There was a sound from the kitchen and Peter glanced up. "El?" Elizabeth came out with two coffees. There was another sound and Peter stared suspiciously at the doors. "Wait a minute, who's back there? Hold on, you said you let Neal and… Sam in? Who's Sam?" He made as if to get up but Sam sheepishly came through the doors with two more mugs.

"Hello Agent Burke."

"You…. You're from Colorado!" Peter said suddenly. His eyes narrowed. "Are you here on a… case? Are we under siege or something?" Sam actually laughed this time.

"You're the third person to ask me that." He said as he sat the mugs down. "No, I'm here on… vacation." Peter accepted his mug as Elizabeth sat down next to him. Sam curled his legs under the table himself and Neal slid down the wall. "Neal asked me for my help."

"I see. Where's the other one – your brother?"

"Different vacation spot." Sam shrugged.

"Hm. So does this help include looking for the elusive Kate?" Sam ducked his head sheepishly and Neal looked slightly surprised. "Oh, I'm aware you're looking for her. Don't act so surprised." Peter sighed.

"We think someone in the FBI has her." Neal revealed. "I talked to her, she's scared to say who has her but I think its OPR. They want something."

"You think Fowler has her." Neal nodded. "What does he want from you?"

"I don't know. Could be anything." Neal shrugged.

"Like what?"

"No. No. You'd have to arrest me if I began to speculate." Neal grinned. Sam rolled his eyes.

"I should be arresting you right now." Peter pointed out.

"But you're not." Sam said. Peter sighed.

"So give him what he wants."

"If I do, there's not guarantee I'll ever see her again. We need to look into Fowler." He pressed.

"You're asking me to investigate OPR. That's suicide." Peter exclaimed. Sam leaned in.

"I'm doing some investigating myself, as is Mozzie. But we might need help from the Bureau." Sam said with a grimace.

"He's already investigating you." Neal pointed out.

"We'd have to go behind the bureau's back." Peter finally said.

"Not if you clear me first. That's what you do for a living, right?" Neal commented. Peter eventually nodded. "All right. I'll be in touch." Neal stood up and pulled out a burner phone. "This is untraceable. But if for any reason, you need to get in touch with me-"

"Don't say another word. I don't want to know where you're going."

"Plausible deniability?" Neal asked with a grin.

"Words to live by." Peter agreed as he pocketed the phone. He turned to Sam, who hadn't stood up with the rest of them. "And you? What's your role in all of this?"

"I'm staying with you to help clear Neal." Sam shrugged. Neal took the moment to sneak out the back way, waving a silent good-bye to Elizabeth and leaving Sam to placate the FBI agent.

He ducked around the agents and made his way to the sewer system once again, eventually ending up at one of Mozzie's secret storage lockers and letting himself in. Mozzie was nowhere to be found so Neal contented himself to making himself comfortable on a couch.

**- A Bar (two days later)**

Neal accepted the cheap whine with a grimace, sipping as the agents – and Sam – crowded around him to pat him on the shoulder. "I thought a little celebration was in order." Peter said as everyone grabbed a beer. Jones and Cruz nodded. "I mean it's a two fold thing."

"How so?" Neal asked.

"Well, you're off the hook." Jones pointed out.

"And our jobs are a lot easier when you run with us, not from us." There where a few chuckles and Neal conceded their points.

"I'm still impressed at how Sam figured out Tulane's escape." Cruz said once they quieted down. "I mean, no one thought to look behind that light panel! And there where no records of the tunnels…" Jones nodded.

"You should be an Agent, man, not a… what do you do again?" Sam grinned sheepishly.

"Odd jobs. My brother and I usually travel together. I wanted to be a lawyer but that didn't happen." Jones made a face then shrugged.

"Ah well, to each their own." Jones downed the rest of his beer. "Man I'm glad OPR is gone." He finally said. "They where really starting to give me the chills."

"You and me both." Cruz said. "Fowler especially – what a creepy guy." There where murmurs of agreement. "Well I have to get going." She finally said, standing. "It's good to have you back, Neal." Neal thanked her and she left. Jones followed suit not much longer, after loosing to Peter in a game of darts. It was only Peter, Sam, and Neal left.

"Either of you up for a round?" Peter asked.

"Darts aren't my thing." Neal said. But Sam stood up with a shrug and joined the agent. "You sticking around for a while Sam?" Neal asked as the game got underway.

"I don't know." Sam replied. "I might." Peter frowned as the younger man threw three near perfect shots.

"Well as long as you don't bring any demons along." Peter joked. Sam shifted guiltily. "What?"

"I ran into a coupe of hunters yesterday – they where after some demons a few hours northwest of here. I didn't bring them, but…" He shrugged. "They wanted me to help them out but I told them no." Peter frowned. There where a few moments of silence before the bar doors clanged open and Sam's eyes widened. Neal followed his gaze to a pair of rather beaten up looking men.

"Uhm, hey guys." Neal stood as the men made their way over to Sam. Peter didn't look thrilled either as he stepped up to stand beside Sam.

"Something you want to tell me, Sam?" The one guy said menacingly.

"What? No." Sam frowned.

"You sure about that?" Neal caught the glint of a gun in the man's waistband and quickly made his way over to Sam and Peter, ducking behind them. He really did not like guns.

"I—I don't know—jeez. Are you guys okay? Where are Reggie and Steve?" Sam asked as he caught sight of the bloodied and torn clothing.

"Oh, Steve's good, he's, uh, his guts are lying roadside. And Reggie… let's just say he won't be seeing you – or anyone – anytime soon." The man said nastily.

"I'm sorry." Sam said softly.

"Sorry don't cut it, Sam."

"What do you want me to say, Tim?"

"The truth." Tim spat. Neal tucked right up behind Peter as the other unnamed guy's hand hovered by his weapon. Sam said nothing. "Okay, fine. Let me give you some of my own, then. We go into town, we catch ourselves a demon, we get jumped by ten more."

"I'm sorry."

"Saying it twice don't make it so, Sam. You see, this demon, he, uh, he told us things. Crazy things, things about you, Sam." Neal noticed Sam stiffen.

"Demons lie."

"Yeah. I'm gonna ask you one last time. The truth. Now." The other man pulled his weapon and aimed in their direction. Peter immediately pulled his own, Neal stepped back a bit to give the agent some room. Sam's hands came up in a placating gesture.

"Just take it easy, okay? Put the gun down." He tries to plead. "You don't want to shoot at us – these guys are with the FBI and you can get in a lot of trouble." But Tim didn't appear to be listening. "Fine, you want the truth? It's true. What the demons said, it's all true. Probably."

"Keep going." Tim said.

"Why? You gonna hate me any less? Am I gonna hate myself any less? What do you want?"

"I want to hear you say it." Tim spat. Neal watched Sam slump in defeat.

"I did it. I started the apocalypse." There was silence. Peter watched Sam out of the corner of his eye but didn't comment even as Neal sighed softly. "I was tricked by a demon and I let Lucifer out of his cage. You happy?" Eventually the guns lowered a bit and Tim pulled a small test tube out of his jacket pocket.

"What is that?" Sam asked nervously.

"What do you think it is?" Tim asked. "It's go juice, Sammy boy."

"Get that away from me." Neal was surprised at the sudden fearful tone to the hunter's voice.

"Away from you? This is for you." Tim laughed. "Hell if that demon wasn't right as rain. Down the hatch, son." He wiggled the tube.

"You're insane." Sam shook his head.

"What is that?" Peter asked harshly, aiming his weapon at the approaching Tim.

"Demon blood." Sam mumbled unhappily. Peter almost dropped his gun in shock and Neal paled. He hated blood just as much as he hated guns.

"Here's what's gonna happen. You're gonna drink this, Hulk out, and you're gonna waste every one of the demon scum that killed my best friend." Tim said. Neal was shoved back as Peter began to retreat along with Sam. A knife was pulled out of Tim's jacket pocket. "Or they die."

"You wouldn't do that." Sam said uncertainly.

"It's funny how watching your best friend die changes that." Sam shook his head. "Come on, you know you want it, Sam. Just reach out and take it." Then all hell broke loose – again. Neal was shoved under a table and he scrambled to stay under as Peter pulled the trigger on his weapon.

There was a grunt and then another gunshot, then some scrambling and the sound of glass breaking and wood creaking. Neal peeked out to see Sam grappling with Tim and Peter with the other guy. Neal winced as Peter was picked up and thrown towards Neal's hiding place, and Neal grabbed the dazed agent as the other guy joined Tim by Sam.

"Dammit." Peter grumbled, glancing around for his weapon. But it was to late. Sam was wrestled to the ground and the vial was popped open. Neal grimaced and his gut clenched as blood trickled into Sam's mouth.

There were a few moments of nothing then Tim and his goon stepped back in triumph. "There, was that really so bad?" Leaving Peter under the table, Neal crawled out and grabbed a pool cue that had been knocked to the floor in the scuffle. He snuck up behind the goon with the knife and brought the thin piece of wood down across the man's head.

There was a howl of pain and Neal jumped back as the man staggered around and slashed at him. There was a wet thwacking sound and a curse, and Neal glanced over to see the demon blood dripping down Tim's face and Sam spitting more out on the ground.

Unfortunately his attention on Sam meant that the goon was able to get a good thrust in and Neal yelped as the knife slashed across his raised arm. A foot came out to get him solidly in the ribs and he fell back. Quickly, wincing in pain, he scrambled back as the goon advanced.

"Stop!" Peter shouted. The goon paused, giving an unsteady Peter the time to scoop up his gun and step in between the man and Neal. Sam had already disarmed the other guy and was brandishing the knife. He looked quite feral with the blood on his teeth and chin.

"Get out of here." Sam growled. "Before he decides to arrest you." Peter reached for his cuffs and the two hunters split. Sam immediately turned to them with guilt-ridden eyes. "God I am SO sorry about this."

"What just happened?" Neal asked shakily as Peter holstered his gun.

"They where the hunters I ran into before. I didn't think that this would…. I'm sorry." Peter knelt beside Neal and grabbed at his arm gently. Sam meandered over. "You're hurt."

"We'll live." Peter said gruffly. Neal let him wrap the bleeding arm in a makeshift bandage. "What was that all about? With the blood?"

"When I was a baby a demon came into my nursery and fed blood to me. Demon blood. It gave me special powers – I can move things, and exorcise demons with my mind." Sam explained. "The demon that tricked me, Ruby, got me to drink more blood to boost my powers. When Dean came back he was pissed and I swore off of it – but then Ruby came back and tricked me into going after Lilith. I broke the final seal holding Lucifer." He hung his head.

"And they just tried to force you to drink more blood…."

"So I could go after the demons they couldn't kill." Sam concluded. Neal winced as Peter helped him to his feet. "I didn't mean to drag you into this."

"It's okay." Neal repeated. "You helped me, now we helped you. We're even." He grinned weakly. Sam bit his lip.

"He's right. You can't control the actions of others, so we're good here." Peter said. "I won't even report this, but I think we should get Neal to a hospital." Neal glanced up from where he was staring at his arm, blood beginning to seep through the makeshift bandage.

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not." Neal grimaced.

"Sure I am…" He looked up to give them a re-assuring look but his head decided to protest the movement and his vision swam. Then the floor was rising to meet him and he passed out. He really really didn't like blood…..

END


End file.
